22 May: Delight in Creation.

 

Pied Beauty 

 

Glory be to God for dappled things—

  For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;

      For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim:

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;

  Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;

    And àll tràdes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;

  Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

      With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;

He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:

                  Praise him.”

 

Gerard Manley Hopkins

A strange choice of picture, perhaps, in Maytime, but Hopkins counted fallen chestnuts among the glorious dappled creation of God. Not a bad meditation to prepare for Pentecost. Or we could listen to Wisdom, describing her part in Creation – Wisdom being an attribute of the Holy Spirit, the first Gift of the Holy Spirit. It is wise to be humble and delight in creation and to play before God at all times. Even in a city centre we can appreciate skies of coupled colour!

The depths were not as yet, and I was already conceived. neither had the fountains of waters as yet sprung out: The mountains with their huge bulk had not as yet been established: before the hills I was brought forth: He had not yet made the earth, nor the rivers, nor the poles of the world. When he prepared the heavens, I was present: when with a certain law and compass he enclosed the depths: When he established the sky above, and poised the fountains of waters: When he compassed the sea with its bounds, and set a law to the waters that they should not pass their limits: when be balanced the foundations of the earth; I was with him forming all things: and was delighted every day, playing before him at all times; Playing in the world: and my delights were to be with the children of men.

Proverbs 8:24-31

21 July, Insects: Laudato Si!

It was only at the end of Britain’s National Insect Week that I ever became aware it existed, but I am pretty sure the bees, bugs and beetles won’t mind being translated to July. In my occasional blog, ‘Will Turnstone’ I was able to mark the week on 27 June, its last day:

Here’s a bee, to remind us of how important they are. Thanks to the bees, this pyracantha, or firethorn, will be covered in flaming yellow, orange or red berries come the autumn. Our blackbirds love them. There’s always something to look forward to in the garden. Laudato si!

And if you’ve no garden of your own (and even if you do have a garden of your own) enjoy other people’s as you pass them by. And be thankful for their artistry and effort.

26 February, Ash Wednesday. The Desert, I: This Space

This Lent we will offer daily reflection on the Desert. We begin with a few lines from the Canadian poet, Kate Braid, which set the scene admirably.

This space is not emptiness,

This space is not, as you would say, Nothing there.

It is a space of fullness, open

to possibility. You would say, A foolish space.

Perhaps.

…

This is not denial. This is joy,

an empty palette waiting, bone

against the sky.

We are so afraid of the larger space.

Kate Braid, Inward to the Bones, Victoria BC, Polestar Book Publishers, 1998. The book explores the life and work of the artist and desert dweller, Georgia O’keeffe.

27 November: When morning gilds the skies.

A couple of weeks ago, this was the sight when I opened the curtains. (I had already been downstairs a little while, I’m not always such a late riser!) The golden light, filtered by the birch leaves was lovely indeed, an invitation to get out into the air.

And a call to prayer as vocal in its way as Great Dunstan or Harry, the chief bells of Canterbury Cathedral. I am reminded again of Edward Caswall’s verse which we shared in April:

When morning gilds the skies,
My heart awaking cries:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

I hope you have enjoyed the gilded skies and landscapes of Autumn, if you live in the temperate Northern Hemisphere; may you have peace in your heart and home as you go through Advent and prepare to praise the infant Jesus Christ.

24 December: Four Candles

Say ‘four candles’ to ironmongers in Britain and you’ll get a weary reaction. If you don’t know why, watch the video from the link at the end of this post.

I know that reaction. Why? well, Abel’s mother inherited her grandfather’s garden fork, riddled with woodworm. Fork handles? I am serious!

Thanks to  one of an ironmonger’s fork handles, a lick of paint and a few coats of linseed oil, it looks and works as good as new.

A month ago it was the first Sunday in Advent. On the day before, Abel and his grandparents gathered greenery to make their Advent wreaths. When Grannie was not looking Abel used the secateurs; two of his hands and one of Grandad’s did the job very well. Back indoors, Abel and Grannie arranged green leaves on the wreaths, and four candles on each. Red candles on Abel’s, but purple on the old folk’s as Uncle Harry has very definite ideas about the colour of the candles.

At 18 months old Abel knows about doing things together and sharing. He knows a little bit about numbers; he enjoys candlelight and knows not to touch the flame. He knows something about waiting and the candles will help him understand this.

He’ll be learning a bit about baby Jesus, and even if things are a little bit confused in his mind this Christmas, he’ll understand that he’s in a loving human family. Not a bad start.

As for us, we have Good News to proclaim, even if people are confused about what Christmas means. A crib, candle or star in a window represents a silent but glowing witness.

WT.

And here is confusion that you can enjoy: just click on the link.

fork handles

 

 

Advent Light

Like everything else, Christmas carols have colours. O Little Town of Bethlehem is the colour of the world on a chill hazy morning when the sun is just above the horizon and the skies are pink and white: a palette of the softest grey blues, greens, the barest hint of rose red, palest gold. In Once in Royal David’s City, on the other hand, deepest royal blue and a moonless night sky enfold the nativity within their protective darkness and unfold to reveal Christ in Glory surrounded by white-robed saints.

MLT.