Thursday, 21 June 2007

To be the face of humnity in the face of evil



This is an icon I wrote recently of St Veronica. (We call it writing Icons as opposed to painting because the art of creating an icon is an act of prayer unfolding, we write the prayer). I am a member of the 'Icon Writers of St Luke' who meet weekly here in Christchurch to teach and write icons together.

Anyway what struck me about Veronica -who was said to have knelt before Christ on his way to the cross and wiped his face, was that she represented that moment of extraordinary compassion in the midst of an indescribable madness. That place where evil and grace scuff up against one another. There is something for me in this about being in that place of witness I guess. That place where that single moment may not tip the balance but stays glowing long after the event.


I wonder if it is where sign posts are placed so that eventually we can find our way home? I remember years ago being on the streets working with what we now call homeless young people but back then just referred to as street kids. One night warming my hands over the lights of the Cathedral (as we did many nights) my buddy at the time talking about those sign posts in the form of an event or person that lead us in a new direction. I know that one of the things that works in turning around lives are those people who for a time loved, accepted and believed in another, who placed there a possibility of a new way.


20 years ago there were three of us in a group voted least likely to ever become Christians and here we are some 20 plus years later to discover each other again, all within the Anglican Church. All responding to a call placed in our hearts , looking for the signpost back. And I don't think it is case of simply coming back, or too, faith, I think maybe we return again and again and again to faith, dance and skirt around and fall over into something far beyond us all.


Being a tad retroflective on this day I am listening to an old Leonard Cohen song as sung by Jennifer Warnes on Famous Blue Raincoat that goes.

Maybe I'm still hurting

I can't turn the other cheek
I know that I still love you
it's just that I can't speak
I looked for you in everyone
and they called me on that too
I lived alone but I was only coming back to you.

Even in your arms I know I'll never get it right
even when you bend to give me comfort in the night
but Ive got to have your word on this or none of it is true
And I left my pride on the other side of coming back to you.

Have a nice day maybe if anyone ever reads this or miracle of miracle comments I will be encouraged minimise waffling and engage in dialogue!


Meg in the windy day

Wednesday, 20 June 2007

Lord be in all that I do and All that I am ...I think

Okay easier said, than done. If indeed Christ is in us, what is it that we are saying and indeed doing to Christ in how we treat ourselves and each other?
What does it mean to be Christ bearers?
Do we treat the Christ within and indeed ourselves and a sacred and tender vibrant creation rich with potential and love, or like the embarrassing family member you only let around people who "understand" and secretly resent.

Does being a Christ bearer become some kind of vaguely creepy experience with the "Gods not only always watching you but is in you as well" scenario in play. It can all become a little like an esoteric 1984 really.

I am not sure why I began with this, I spend a lot of time chatting with God, arguing, begging, asking for signs, ways to get through the next day, hour, minute, aching for an external affirmation that I am not alone that things will get better.

And so I pray

Lord,
Sometimes I feel I might break
with the strength it takes
to hold up those around me.

Be at my back Lord
when the burden is too great.
Hold firm my spine,
when it begins to crumble.

Give strength
to these trembling arms
that hold up others,

and

if the time comes,
catch all the pieces of me
as I break.

All the while whispering
soft words of morning
to those who minister
to the night



We are not alone

Monday, 18 June 2007

First Days Alone In the Desert

I have been haunted since first learning about the Desert Mothers about what it was to be in the Wilderness, to be stripped down before God. If you haven't heard about the Desert Mothers these were women who yearned for a complete union with God . Who through embracing abundant simplicity, went into the desert, where stripped of worldly concerns and influences, fought to remove any and all obstacles in the pursuit of communion with God.
In this yearning they sort to make space for God and too quote “actively cultivate a burning love for God”.
Non attachment and non possessiveness were essential. Although they cared for those around them they were not tied them. They also sort to mortidy what were seen as disordered passions, demons of fornication and lust that were seen as distractions from a deepening relationship with God.
This journey called one into relationship that was both deeply intimate and vulnerable.
Several weeks ago I took a God Talk at Theology House entitled "Into the Wilderness: A reflection on the early Desert Mothers and our own journeys in the urban wilderness" since then I have been as I said haunted by questions such as "In the Wilderness how does the tomb become the womb. Anyway here is a reflection on the first few days of madness alone.


Lord I ache
it feels like I have searched for you so long
what have I done that I can no longer hear you?
Lord Have mercy

Lord its me
I cut of my hair for you, but I am torn
If you come to me now, how will I wash your feet?
For my vanity
Christ have mercy

Lord I thought I saw your eyes in the night
I imagined I had finally done enough to be with you
But it was a sand cat
And when it blinked and I was reminded a thousand times of my presumption,
for my sin
Lord have mercy

Lord I screamed today, heard my voice bounce of valley walls a hundred times
The silence ached in its solitude
It craved to hear a word
A sound
A whisper
And that’s how it began
a word
a Psalm
A whisper
But the belly demanded more and I screamed and screamed
But all I heard, was me
Saying too much
Saying too loud
I cover my mouth
Weak in my will
Christ have mercy

Lord I begged for food today when I should embrace the raging hunger that sits with me daily,
I ate crickets and old fruit
Turned by back on demons,
Thought of you and fell down
I thought if I could just stop the rumbling below
Maybe that which is underneath
The dark me
The raging me
The terrified broken me-unacceptable in your sight, may disappear
But instead she just aches to be before you
For that which I have kept hidden
Powerful Lord
Vengeful Lord
Graceful, Loving , Laughing Lord Have
Mercy have mercy
For just a moment in this magnificent day
Have mercy