August 1: Shared Table XIII, Dishonouring the poor at table.

If there shall come into your assembly a man having a golden ring, in fine apparel, and there shall come in also a poor man in mean attire, and you have respect to him that is clothed with the fine apparel, and shall say to him: Sit thou here well; but say to the poor man: Stand thou there, or sit under my footstool: do you not judge within yourselves, and are become judges of unjust thoughts?

Hearken, my dearest brethren: hath not God chosen the poor in this world, rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which God hath promised to them that love him? But you have dishonoured the poor man.

James 2:2-6.

I was struck between the eyes by a restaurant review which described the diners as bravely consuming roasted grasshoppers and silkworms. Where did the chef source them, I wondered. It all sounded like the decadent feasts portrayed in Asterix the Gaul comic books. Then I read an article by Joseph Pons, a student at ICES University in France.¹ He writes about quinoa, the so-called super-food.

I had images of acres of the stuff, ripening in Somerset. Wrong! Quinoa comes from Bolivia and Peru and was a staple for poor people, till rising prices meant they had to sell all they could produce and buy rice from Asia to feed their families. Meanwhile, richer Asian people are buying Western agricultural produce.

Quinoa cost forty times the price of wheat in European markets in 2013.

Yes, I tend to think of a global food chain as linking us together for good, but in this case it is not for the good of all. And so far as I know I’ve never eaten quinoa, grasshoppers, or silkworms. But then one of our mottoes here at Agnellus Mirror is ‘Eat whatever they put before you’, (Luke 10:7) so who knows what will be on the menu some day?

Let’s hope it will not be served to us to the dishonour of the producer, and let’s strive to avoid such damaging fads.

text and photo: MMB

Barley in Kent.

1Joseph Pons: L’Avenir commence demain en consummant differement, in La Ruche ICES, 22/5/2017, p10.

Advertisements

11 December: Gaudete!

 

Matthew 11:2-11

In the Gospels, Jesus often points to His works as evidence that God has sent him.  His presence transforms people’s lives, healing and bringing new life to all who will accept Him.  As a disciple of Jesus Christ, how could my daily life and work point to the presence of God’s Kingdom?

Isaiah 35:1-6, 10

Exult…rejoice and bloom, …rejoice and sing for joy, ‘Courage! Do not be afraid.’

…leap like a deer …sing for joy …shouting for joy, everlasting joy…joy and gladness …sorrow and lament be ended.’

James 5:7-10

do not lose heart… . Do not make complaints.

Matthew 11:2-11

Good News …do not lose faith

Today’s Scriptures tell me that signs of the presence of God are joy, courage and trust.

Is this the spirit in which I serve and work?

The tendency to lose heart and make complaints is all too strong, faced with the messes in my life and in the world.  But I cannot convey good news with a gloomy face.  Only by holding onto a deep faith in Jesus’ promises will I have the strength to show joy and courage, even in the midst of troubles.  This should be the sign in my life that accompanies the Good News I am called to share – the news that God is with us and will never fail us.

Emmanuel, during this Advent, let me not forget that your life and work gives me a reason to be happy.

FMSL

25 November: Inter-Galactic Discoveries: XVIII The Galloping Dik-Dik

 

‘T’ and the Chihuahuas continued to listen raptly to bits and pieces of the story of the Lady Domneva and her dik-dik and, in doing so, were transported back to the vanished world of the wild and woolly seventh century.

It seemed that every monastic foundation required a kind of demesne, or endowment; enough land to ensure peace and quiet and also to raise some hard cash for bee’s wax candles, mason’s wages for the carving, and subsequent maintenance, of gargoyles and stone arabesques, lentils for the nun’s soup, ducks for their eggs and down to stuff the duvets in the guest quarters (the nuns themselves, having taken a vow of poverty, did not use duvets), some cattle for Feast days (as well as a sip of wine) and parchment, and, of course, lots and lots of sheep for lamb chops, mutton stew and wool to make their distinctive black habits (not to mention a large quantity of the rare and expensive beetle carapace used to make the dye). Well, let it simply be said that running a large monastic foundation could be expensive. Land was also needed for orchards of apples, pears, and apricots, wild flowers, and the oddly placed fisherman’s cot. In fact, back in the seventh century, as feudalism came into its first virile wind, well, land meant just about everything.

The Kentish king, encamped with his vast court on the site of the future monastery, was both vexed and perplexed. Since the king was new at founding monasteries, he wasn’t quite sure how much land might be required and the Lady Domneva was also of little help since she had only been a nun for a very short time. It was then that one of the scullery people, noticing the frisk of the Lady’s dik-dik on a particularly cold day, came up with an idea that delighted everyone.

‘Why not leave it up to God?’ the young maid said, rather enigmatically. And when all agreed that that must be a fine idea…another question immediately sprang forward – ‘but how?’ It was then that a wizened hermit emerged from a nearby wood and, approaching the diminutive dik-dik, began to stroke the lovely creature while spoon feeding it some black currant jam. In tones of deepest respect, he asked a beaming Lady Domneva if the tiny deer-like creature had a name. ‘Indeed, he does,’ she cooed, ‘Boanerges.’ And at the sound of his name the tiny dik-dik licked a spot of jam from his nose and rolled a triple somersault on the emerald lawn to everyone’s delight. ‘Surely,’ the hermit intoned, ‘God can speak through a Son of Thunder?’ And, so, it came to be.

+++

The little dik-dik ran and ran…and ran. Throughout the Isle of Thanet from dawn until dusk. The brisk, late-November chill served as both motivation…and inspiration…as the near-magical creature raced the howling east wind. By royal decree, everywhere it traversed would become the endowment of the monastery and, some say, that if it hadn’t been for the watery barrier of the mighty Wansum, well, the dik-dik might have galloped all the way to Scotland.

TJH

 

10 May Tuesday: A Greeting

GOOD morning, Life – and all

Things glad and beautiful.

My pockets nothing hold,

But he that owns the gold,

The Sun, is my great friend –

His spending has no end.

A Greeting, W. H. Davies

 

The Welsh poet W.H. Davies lost a leg jumping a train in America, but unembittered, went on to write of gladness and beauty. Back in February I was changing trains and noticed the low sunlight reflected off the rails. I had only a minute or so to stand and stare; while my picture does not do the sight justice, for there was gold in the morning sun that day.

 

The shining rails reminded me of Blake’s lines:

 

 I give you the end of a golden string;

Only wind it into a ball,

It will lead you in at Heaven’s gate,

Built in Jerusalem’s wall.

To the Christians, William Blake.

 

I was on my way to work, not Heaven’s gate – or perhaps the golden thread that I am meant to follow takes me there, through my daily work?

 

Let us be thankful for the gifts we have received, and let us look up and pray, every day, for discernment.

MMB.

In 2012 the Blake Society declared Chris Williams the winner of their competition to set these words to music. This links to the first performance in St James’ Piccadilly, London.

http://chriswilliamscomposer.com/works/vocal/a-golden-string/

Image: Yale University via:

http://www.blakearchive.org/exist/blake/archive/object.xq?objectid=jerusalem.e.illbk.77&java=no