Saturday 31 July 2021

Looking for diamonds

 The questions they asked of Jesus! I'm thinking of todays' gospel reading in John chapter 6. Jesus has escaped the crowd after the feeding of the five thousand, and when they catch up with him, they want an explanation. How did you get here? Depending on how you say it, it could be an open question, but it could have anger or fear behind it. Certainly the questions which follow this one are a challenge to Jesus' authority, asking if he is a charlatan, or worse. 

You want another miracle, another show of the spectacular, Jesus tells them. But in this fraught atmosphere, challenging, possibly heated, comes the calm, solid and shattering truth 'I am the bread of life'. No answer to their questions, but.......

Most may have missed its import, weight, sharp truth. It does take a lifetime to absorb. We are faced with all our questions to God, all our questions about God, with the one he lobs back at us; 'Are you looking for the pearls you expect, or the diamonds I long to give?'

Saturday 24 July 2021

Santiago de Compostela

 Today is the feast day of St. James; this day brings back memories of the camino I made twelve years ago. The memories are mixed; the smell of the eucalyptus woods as we walked through them, the joy of meeting other pilgrims on the way, the loveliness of this part of Spain, the small villages we walked through, the comfort of the wayside signage which confirmed we were on the right track, And the joylessness of the endless road stretching ahead in the heavy rain, the acheing body at the end of the day, the wrong turns and retracing of steps, the blistered feet needing attention. 

I wonder how many pilgrims- not many, I'll be bound- can say that their journey in Christ has been one of unalloyed joy, of straight and level paths in shady sunshine. For most it will have been a mix of good times and -yes- bad. Closeness to God and times of estrangement. Consolation and desolation. 

But we keep on. We keep on keeping on. Part deeply ingrained habit, part because we don't know a better alternative- 'to whom, Lord, shall we go? You have the words of eternal life'. Part because it can always be better than this, part for the final promise, the beatific vision of going to God. 

The journey and the destination- a complicated mix. We press on towards the mark.    

   

Saturday 17 July 2021

The gardener's pleasure

 '.....my father is the gardener'. And why wouldn't he be? Planting, transplanting, taking cuttings, trimming, pruning, weeding, planning, mulching, watering, mowing, building, looking over- and the rest. And taking joy in it all, above all. 

I walk round the garden at least once a day just now. Just taking delight in it. Noticing what's new, what needs a little help, dead-heading the roses, removing a weed, harvesting a few strawberries and watering, of course. There's always something to do, something to rejoice in- the deep purple of the clematis which has just come into bloom, the way the vibrant orange rose fades to apricot, then to pink. The particular pleasure of watching the monardas flower- a plant a haven't grown before; the thankfulness that I didn't jettison the verbena when all seemed lost- it's come good, and is starting its small blooms. 

It gives rise to a thought I have never seriously entertained before- the pleasures of God. Yes, I know the verse 'my son, in whom I am well pleased' and have applied it to myself, to good effect, and to others in ministering to them; but it's a thought worth taking up, savouring, more often;- that this plant/person, this ensemble of plants/church/community, could be a serious source of pleasure to God. 

I can feel another stroll round the garden coming on; just for the pleasure of it.   

Saturday 10 July 2021

A kingdom, a house

 This 'building a kingdom' thing- a bit big, a bit abstruse for me. Even building a house in me seems like a hard thing, never mind a kingdom. 

The foundations, for one thing; are they secure? Do they go down deep enough? Will they support the rickety structure on top of them when flood and fire and wind and rain beat against this house? And as I look at the walls of my soul, cobbled together from this and that, constantly being replaced as they prove not fit for purpose, not strong enough; will this ever be a weatherproof house, where a king may live.  A palace it is not. 

The roof is leaky, with missing tiles; the whole is a shambles, constantly being fixed, sometimes with planning, most times with fire-brigade urgency. 

Yet a king lives there- I can't get over it. And sees it as precious, a palace. Maybe it will be, one day, God willing. 

Saturday 3 July 2021

Sinner

 Funny how religious people are considered to be self-righteous, when my guess is that most feel themselves to be quite the opposite- in need of some saving from themselves. I am one of those- alongside Pope Francis, inter alia, who are happy to be labelled by that old-fashioned phrase 'a sinner'.

It puts me in my place, a constant recipient of mercy and grace, striving for some little holiness, and helps me see that in spite of all the small triumphs I might put up in self-defence, if called to account for my actions, most are done with the most mixed of motives, and the golden nimbus I would put around my self, my actions and thoughts is made of the basest metal. 

Long ago there was a fruitless time when scientists of a sort looked for a way which base metal could be turned to gold. To no avail. but George Herbert built on this idea, although the riches he found were of a different order - 'this is the famous stone/which turneth all to gold/for that which God doth touch and own/cannot for less be told. 

So a sinner, yes, but with mercy and grace, something more- I'm a work in progress.