Tag Archives: Rabindranath Tagore

20 December, Tagore XXII: lamp lights

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NASA image

A contentious statement from Tagore today:

God loves man’s lamp lights better than his own great stars.

from “Stray Birds” by Rabindranath Tagore

Do you agree? Can God love something more than another thing? Which of men’s lamp lights does he love so much – those lit in love, perhaps, like these. Hardly a burglar’s torch or flashlight! And Tagore was writing before city dwellers were isolated from the skies by light pollution.

We cannot see the Light of the World for the world’s lights. We cannot see the Wise Men’s Star for the world’s lights.

But it is almost Christmas, four candles lit, let the fifth be in my heart as I go out to meet him!

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19 December: Unworthy, unworthy, unworthy.

Why all these arguments? Worthiness cannot be earned merely by disputing about it. And I am unworthy, unworthy, unworthy.

What if I am unworthy? The true value of love is this, that it can ever bless the unworthy with its own prodigality. For the worthy there are many rewards on God’s earth, but God has specially reserved love for the unworthy.

from “The Home and the World” by Rabindranath Tagore.

It is good to take note of when different traditions come close to Christianity. We Catholics at Mass use the prayer of the Roman Centurion: I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.’ Matthew 8:8.

Specially reserved love for the centurion was his son’s healing. But what good things have I received this day that I did not deserve? All is gift.

May we show forth God’s love to our neighbours this Christmas time, however fearful, resentful, or depressed they may be. Christmas is not just for good children, but for unworthy children – and unworthy adults.

Image, Hospital Lane, Canterbury, MMB.

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26 July, Tagore : my wounds and my healing.

Pere Jacques Hamel
martyr

‘When I stand before thee at the day’s end thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.’ Tagore

Pere Hamel had worked hard, networked hard, to help his local Muslims integrate and feel welcome in the neighbourhood of Saint-Étienne-du-Rouvray. But on this morning in 2016 he was cut down while celebrating early morning Mass. Two men of the Islamic State terror group wanted to keep hold of the differences between people rather than celebrate our unity before the God who made us.

May those who bring violence to our streets, homes, churches and schools, have their scars anointed and healed.

from “Stray Birds” by Rabindranath Tagore

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30 May, Tagore: no time to destroy.

"There is not time for us to clasp a thing
and crush it and fling it away to the dust."
			from "The Gardener" by Rabindranath Tagore

‘Clasp a thing and crush it and fling it away’ – that is us today. That is exactly what we Turnstones do with supermarket plastic milk bottles. When our milk was delivered in glass bottles to the doorstep, it was often stolen, our children left without milk for breakfast.

So we see sin and the effects of sin: someone clasped our milk bottle, drank the milk and flung the bottle away; we were forced to buy supermarket milk, and crush and fling away the plastic bottle. At least that is recycled nowadays.

Let’s use our time and resources to let the dust bloom, not accumulate our rubbish.

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29 May, Tagore: everything but

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"THOSE who have everything but thee, my God, 
laugh at those who have nothing but thyself." 
						from "Stray Birds" by Rabindranath Tagore
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27 May: Time is short

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It is heroic to hug one’s sorrow and determine not to be consoled.
But a fresh face peeps across my door and raises its eyes to my eyes.
I cannot but wipe away my tears and change the tune of my song.
For time is short.

from “The Gardener” by Rabindranath Tagore
Surely hugging one’s sorrow and refusing consolation is to be the hero in one’s own tuppence-coloured soap opera? After a catastrophic event in life it is surely normal and good to take time to recuperate, but live on we must, commending all things to their Creator. Maybe the poet is writing in the person of a young teenager, a star-crossed lover? He follows the philosophy, not of Romeo and Juliet, but of Clementine’s admirer: How I missed her, how I missed my Clementine, but I kissed her pretty sister and forgot my Clementine. Time is short. Let’s not succumb to worrying about the virus or its effects. let’s rather be here, full of hope for whoever needs to hear a change of tune.

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15 March, Desert XVIII, Rabindranath Tagore: Where is my desert?

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At midnight the would-be ascetic announced:
“This is the time to give up my home and seek for God. Ah, who has held me so long in delusion here?”
God whispered, “I,” but the ears of the man were stopped.
With a baby asleep at her breast lay his wife, peacefully sleeping on one side of the bed.
The man said, “Who are ye that have fooled me so long?”
The voice said again, “They are God,” but he heard it not.
The baby cried out in its dream, nestling close to its mother.
God commanded, “Stop, fool, leave not thy home,” but still he heard not.
God sighed and complained, “Why does my servant wander to seek me, forsaking me?””
(from “The Gardener” by Rabindranath Tagore)
 Life can seem a little too comfortable at times; a cosy house by the sea, a spouse, a child … is this too easy? Am I making time for God? Maybe God has made this time for me, with all its comforts and consolations.
Who knows what tomorrow, or the next twenty years will bring? But for now, love those given to you to be loved as if they were divine, for they are in the image and likeness of God. They are your vocation today. Accept them with joy.

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4 February, A week with Rabindranath Tagore: VII.

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If you shut your door to all errors truth will be shut out.

Stray Birds CXXX

Which is surely one reason Pope Francis called for a Year of Mercy. Any door can be a holy door, if we step through it to find truth or to share it.

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3 February: A week with Rabindranath Tagore: VI

“We, the rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms, but who are you, so silent?”

“I am a mere flower.”

Stray Birds XXIII

Saint Thérèse says:

‘Jesus  multiplied his graces in his little flower – he who cried out during his mortal life “I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.”’ (Luke 10: 21)

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A week with Rabindranath Tagore: V

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That I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life.

Stray Birds XXII

Or in the words of the Welsh Poet W.H. Davies:

Good Morning Life and all things glad and beautiful.

I fully realise that for you, reader, maybe this is not the way you feel today. Certainly not ‘all things glad and beautiful.’ WHD knew suffering as a tramp, an amputee and a homeless hostel dweller before he was helped to become a full time writer. ‘What is this life if full of care …’ was written from experience.

‘… we have no time to stand and stare?’ Davies continues. It is no bad discipline to make time to stand and stare at any moment, or sit and reflect at day’s end. There is never a day without something to be grateful for: a smile, a star, sunshine on waves, an unseasonably early flower, dust motes dancing in a beam of light. And more small mercies to come tomorrow.

May the Lord grant us a quiet night and a perfect end. Amen.

 

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