On the Tables of Kindred, Affinity,
We’re joined most closely to holy Trinity:
Father, good Spirit and Brother in divinity,
In the cycles of love we are caught.
This is love by intention and by descent,
Chosen because searching our God has sent
the Son wherever He haunts His sheep’s scent:
By God’s loving desire we are sought.
Chosen too because we’re God’s own pedigree,
Though human, divine surprisingly agree,
Being loved is God’s and our life’s apogee,
This by creeds and by prayer we are taught.
So we look in our humanity to find
Ourselves in the Lord’s great matter entwined.
- 2 Corinthians 13:11-13
- Matthew 28:16-20
Arise, ablaze because your light now beams,
Godly insight, shine on just abiding aims.
The darkness that would cover earth still dreams
Of battle victory in Satanic games.
The poverty of the poor brought to nought,
The dryness of the drought be drowned in rain,
The violence of the vicious be stopped short,
The upright once disgraced honoured again.
So yes: God’s mystery wise has been revealed,
the Gospel locked in sepulchre set free,
and Jesus master of this battle-field
is fruiting flower of the frankincense tree.
For darkness has no means of quenching light:
Wise men blaze in the beacon of Twelfth Night.
- Isaiah 60:1-6,
- Psalm 72:1-7,10-14,
- Ephesians 3:1-12,
- Matthew 2:1-12
Adoration of the Magi, Andrea Mantegna, 1495-1505. Painting in John Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles
Would you really choose to be born again?
you heave for breath as you come down to earth,
bathed in piss and blood and distracted pain.
Cut the soggy swill of placental afterbirth.
This grotesque play, this miraculous coming,
This in-spiration makes earth self-aware,
You bear the pain, you seek joy in becoming,
You miss the past; but the future is where
Abram, when he experienced new birth,
was ordered to set out; and he travelled
from one side to the other of known earth:
How his heart’s security unravelled!
New human life takes always death maternal,
For no way else may we share life eternal.
I walk this distant red gorge path alone.
My feet seek strength but I fear its sheer side,
I reach out searching for my God: unknown.
I touch nothing and weep; my faith has died.
I trudge on with the bread and blood and Word
These connect me to the church not to God.
“Scriptura sola” is literally absurd
My only joy is that others have trod
This way; and overstepped the bounds of linking.
I’ve lost the power to feel where God creates,
Abandoned zeal, fearing downfall, am sinking —
Instead of love, my worship isolates.
I falter, fall, free-fall down the chasm deep,
I faithless, God grasps me, who makes the leap.
- Matthew 17:1-13
- Luke 9:28-36
Solo pilgrim – Way of St James, Spain