Tag: malcolm guite

MOTHERING SUNDAY: with resources

I love this poem by Malcolm Guite, which especially celebrates single mums and the amazing job so many of them do.  As always, you can hear Malcolm reading his poem if you click on the title.  I’ve also added some links to resources.

Image result for mothering sunday

Mothering Sunday 

At last, in spite of all, a recognition,

For those who loved and laboured for so long,

Who brought us, through that labour, to fruition

To flourish in the place where we belong.

A thanks to those who stayed and did the raising,

Who buckled down and did the work of two,

Whom governments have mocked instead of praising,

Who hid their heart-break and still struggled through,

The single mothers forced onto the edge

Whose work the world has overlooked, neglected,

Invisible to wealth and privilege,

But in whose lives the kingdom is reflected.

Now into Christ our mother church we bring them,

Who shares with them the birth-pangs of His Kingdom.

(Malcolm Guite)

 

RESOURCES FOR MOTHERING SUNDAY

https://www.mothersunion.org/mothering-sunday-resources

http://www.going4growth.com/growth_through_the_year/mothering_sunday

https://www.childrenssociety.org.uk/what-you-can-do/your-church/pray-worship-reflect/worship/mothering-sunday

https://www.barnabasinchurches.org.uk/find/all/ideas/1/mothering+sunday/

http://www.allageworshipresources.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/SAAW002-Mothering-Sunday-Honour-your-parents.pdf

And a Godly Play approach:  https://deaconstories.files.wordpress.com/2018/03/the-prodigal-daughter.docx

EVERY IDLE WORD

If you click on this title you can listen to the poem. 

What If… 

But I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment. For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.” Matthew 12:36-37

https://malcolmguite.files.wordpress.com/2019/01/hate-speech-id_275-275.jpg

What if every word we say
Never ends or fades away,
Gathers volume gathers weigh,
Drums and dins us with dismay
Surges on some dreadful day
When we cannot get away
Whelms us till we drown?

What if not a word is lost,
What if every word we cast
Cruel, cunning, cold, accurst,
Every word we cut and paste
Echoes to us from the past
Fares and finds us first and last
Haunts and hunts us down?

What if every murmuration,
Every otiose oration
Every oath and imprecation,
Insidious insinuation,
Every blogger’s aberration,
Every facebook fabrication
Every twittered titivation,
Unexamined asservation
Idiotic iteration,
Every facile explanation,
Drags us to the ground?

What if each polite evasion
Every word of defamation,
Insults made by implication,
Querulous prevarication,
Compromise in convocation,
Propaganda for the nation
False or flattering persuasion,
Blackmail and manipulation
Simulated desperation
Grows to such reverberation
That it shakes our own foundation,
Shakes and brings us down?

Better that some words be lost,
Better that they should not last,
Tongues of fire and violence.
O Word through whom the world is blessed,
Word in whom all words are graced,
Do not bring us to the test,
Give our clamant voices rest,
And the rest is silence.

https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/2019/01/09/every-idle-word-what-if-we-had-to-own-up-to-what-we-say/?fbclid=IwAR06UHZxI6Ns89raFxLI95KUZiZvZfWOdqIBPW7J-7LKgnw-TLfvtHp44pU

THE FEAST OF CHRIST THE KING

Christ The King

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Mathew 25: 31-46

Our King is calling from the hungry furrows
Whilst we are cruising through the aisles of plenty,
Our hoardings screen us from the man of sorrows,
Our soundtracks drown his murmur: ‘I am thirsty’.
He stands in line to sign in as a stranger
And seek a welcome from the world he made,
We see him only as a threat, a danger,
He asks for clothes, we strip-search him instead.
And if he should fall sick then we take care
That he does not infect our private health,
We lock him in the prisons of our fear
Lest he unlock the prison of our wealth.
But still on Sunday we shall stand and sing
The praises of our hidden Lord and King.

A sonnet by priest-poet Malcolm Guite:  full details here https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/2012/11/24/the-feast-of-christ-the-king-a-sonnet/

FEAST OF ST LUKE

Luke

His gospel is itself a living creature

A ground and glory round the throne of God,

Where earth and heaven breathe through human nature

And One upon the throne sees it is good.

Luke is the living pillar of our healing,

A lowly ox, the servant of the four,

We turn his page to find his face revealing

The wonder, and the welcome of the poor.

He breathes good news to all who bear a burden

Good news to all who turn and try again,

The meek rejoice and prodigals find pardon,

A lost thief reaches paradise through pain,

The voiceless find their voice in every word

And, with Our Lady, magnify Our Lord.

 

https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/tag/st-luke/

ST COLUMBA’S DAY

https://malcolmguite.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/saintc17.jpg

Columba

You called me and I came to Colmcille

To learn at last the meaning of my name

Though you yourself were called, and not the caller,

He called through you and when He called I came.

Came to the edge at last, in Donegal,

Where bonfires burned and music lit the flame

As from the shore I glimpsed that ragged sail

The Spirit filled to drive you from your  home,

A fierce dove racing in a fiercer gale,

A swift wing flashing between sea and sky.

And with that glimpse I knew that I  would fly

And find you out and serve you for a season,

My heaven hidden like your native isle,

Though somehow glimmering on each horizon.

Find out more about why Columba means so much to priest-poet Malcolm Guite

JULIAN OF NORWICH

The 8th of May is the feast day of Julian of Norwich, sometimes known as Mother Julian or Lady Julian. She was an English Mystic of the late fourteenth Century, living as an Anchoress (hermit) in Norwich. Her Shewings, or Revelations of Divine Love, a series of mystical visions of and conversations with Jesus, remain a source of profound wisdom and a gift to the church, present and future.

A sonnet from priest-poet Malcolm Guite: as usual, you can listen to it by clicking the title.  Phrases from the poem resonate with what we know of Julian’s life and writings.

Image result for icon julian of norwich

Icon of Julian with her cat by Br Robert Lentz OFM

Mother Julian

Show me O anchoress, your anchor-hold

Deep in the love of God, and hold me fast.

Show me again in whose hands we are held,

Speak to me from your window in the past,

Tell me again the tale of Love’s compassion

For all of us who fall onto the mire,

How he is wounded with us, how his passion

Quickens the love that haunted our desire.

Show me again the wonder of at-one-ment

Of Christ-in-us distinct and yet the same,

Who makes, and loves, and keeps us in each moment,

And looks on us with pity not with blame.

Keep telling me, for all my faith may waver,

Love is his meaning, only love, forever.

PALM SUNDAY

Poet Malcolm Guite and artist John August Swanson accompany us as Holy Week begins.

Entry into the City, 2011, a work in progress

Palm Sunday

Now to the gate of my Jerusalem,

The seething holy city of my heart,

The saviour comes. But will I welcome him?

Oh crowds of easy feelings make a start;

They raise their hands, get caught up in the singing,

And think the battle won. Too soon they’ll find

The challenge, the reversal he is bringing

Changes their tune. I know what lies behind

The surface flourish that so quickly fades;

Self-interest, and fearful guardedness,

The hardness of the heart, its barricades,

And at the core, the dreadful emptiness

Of a perverted temple. Jesus  come

Break my resistance and make me your home.

MOTHERING SUNDAY: poem and resources

I love this poem by Malcolm Guite, which especially celebrates single mums and the amazing job so many of them do.  As always, you can hear Malcolm reading his poem if you click on the title.  I’ve also added some links to resources.

Image result for mothering sunday

Mothering Sunday 

At last, in spite of all, a recognition,

For those who loved and laboured for so long,

Who brought us, through that labour, to fruition

To flourish in the place where we belong.

A thanks to those who stayed and did the raising,

Who buckled down and did the work of two,

Whom governments have mocked instead of praising,

Who hid their heart-break and still struggled through,

The single mothers forced onto the edge

Whose work the world has overlooked, neglected,

Invisible to wealth and privilege,

But in whose lives the kingdom is reflected.

Now into Christ our mother church we bring them,

Who shares with them the birth-pangs of His Kingdom.

(Malcolm Guite)

RESOURCES FOR MOTHERING SUNDAY

Mother’s Union resources:  http://www.mothersunion.org/MotheringSunday

CofE Going for Growth:  http://www.going4growth.com/growth_through_the_year/mothering_sunday

The Children’s Society:  https://www.childrenssociety.org.uk/what-you-can-do/your-church/pray-worship-reflect/worship/mothering-sunday

Barnabas in Churches:  http://www.barnabasinchurches.org.uk/find/all/ideas/1/mothering+sunday/

All Age Worship Resources:  http://www.allageworshipresources.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/SAAW002-Mothering-Sunday-Honour-your-parents.pdf

And a Godly Play twist on the parable of the prodigal son:  The Prodigal Daughter, with thanks to John Griffiths:

The Prodigal Daughter

 

GEORGE HERBERT, priest and poet

Nothing really to do with deacons.  Just because he’s one of my favourites.  You can listen to the poem too if you click on the heading.

https://malcolmguite.files.wordpress.com/2016/02/portrait_herbert.jpg

George Herbert

Gentle exemplar, help us in our trials,

With all that passed between you and your Lord,

That intimate exchange of frowns and smiles

Which chronicled your love-match with the Word.

Your manuscript, entrusted to a friend,

Has been entrusted now to every soul,

We make a new beginning in your end

And find your broken heart has made us whole.

Time has transplanted you, and you take root,

Past changing in the paradise of Love,

Help me to trace your temple, tune your lute,

And listen for an echo from above,

Open the window, let me hear you sing,

And see the Word with you in everything.

Malcolm Guite

THIS CROSS OF ASH

Malcolm Guite‘s poem connects up the ash that many Christians will receive today with the destruction of God’s earth, and calls for repentance.  You can also listen to the poem by clicking on the title.

Ash Wednesday

Receive this cross of ash upon your brow,
Brought from the burning of Palm Sunday’s cross.
The forests of the world are burning now
And you make late repentance for the loss.
But all the trees of God would clap their hands
The very stones themselves would shout and sing
If you could covenant to love these lands
And recognise in Christ their Lord and king.

He sees the slow destruction of those trees,
He weeps to see the ancient places burn,
And still you make what purchases you please,
And still to dust and ashes you return.
But Hope could rise from ashes even now
Beginning with this sign upon your brow.

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