Lammas Bread

 

Our table is covered in crumbs.
I feel your disapproval growing
as an unwelcome guest in our midst.
Yet there are none such at this table.
Even the disapproving are welcome to
gather the crumbs under this table.
Not untidy but loved.
Much bread has been broken around it. As we say
‘Blessed are you Lord God of all creation.’
Broken and shared this bread will sustain our journey.
The crumbs that fall tell the story of those left behind.
‘Through your goodness we have this bread to offer;’
a blessing on those who gather.
Offered back we declare all bread blessed.
A simple offering set aside, to taste goodness.
‘Earth has given and human hands have
made’ crafted and created, kneaded in an
ancient love of giving for new life, nutrition.
‘It will become for us the bread of life.’ Rise up,
living breath of the bread made manifest in the
goodness the earth, sun and rain, bound up in wheat grain.
Broken before us, source and leaven of life itself.
The breath in all that lives, the space
between the strands. Blessed be god in the scattered crumbs
that forever remain as precious as those shared and eaten.

grief

I have seen a glimpse of a place not yet,
covered as if with glistening dew in the
morning sun, being prepared for me to dwell in.
I am not yet there. I am but a sapling learning
how to grow in a new clearing when a tree falls.
Emptiness around beckoning like an early sun’s
lighting of a summer cloud above the morning mist,
serene, with promise. That which fell as harsh rain
might yet fall sweet, refreshing, drawing me onwards
encouraging growth.

Three Pillars of Anglicanism.

If I were going to preach a traditional sermon, then I might tell you that  Matthew 13. 1-9, 18-23 displays the three pillars of Anglicanism. Scriture. Tradition. Reason.
But I don’t often preach traditional Sermons. I do want to talk about seed, soil and roots which are I suppose the same thing as Scripture, Tradition and Reason. Yesterday was St. Swithin’s day. And the film which came out of the box last night was One Day – because it is only the events of St. Swithin’s day that we get to see. One day each year for twenty years. It is a beautiful film with a wonderful soundtrack. If we believe st. Swithun’s lore we can expect another forty days of mist and rain. as the proverb goes: St Swithun’s day if thou dost rain For forty days it will remain St Swithun’s day if thou be fair For forty days ’twill rain nae mare Or: If on St Swithun’s day it really pours You’re better off to stay indoors. But I’ve not mentioned the film to talk about the weather. It’s a film about seed, soil and roots and it is written how we read our gospels – in snapshots. This is much how our Gospels are written, dipping in and out of the events and lives of Jesus and his companions.  In One Day we move from terrible London flats smelling of onions to awful post university jobs in restaurants and television.  From meetings in France to returning to the family home. From difficult conversations with parents to distant answer phone messages.  Missed calls and missed opportunities.  From new jobs, to new boyfriends.  From bad jobs to car crash employment.  Terrible live television to all star school plays.  Rows in restaurants to dead end relationships.  Break downs and making up to put downs and pick me ups.  By the end we are left with two people who we know so very well and who ought to be so very right for one another.  They are comfortable with each other, though not always comforting.  Our patience with their painfully slow coming together is rewarded with a romantic liaison in Paris, the wedding, plans for children of their own.  The dream is unfolding, and then, we ought to expect it as in many romantic stories but we don’t, it is cut short. Where there was a comforting voice there is now silence.  Where there was a companion there is now an empty chair.  Where there was a loving caress there is nothing.  And our Gospels have taken us on a whirlwind snapshot tour from a backstreet birth, refugees travelling the road, baptisms, weddings, funerals, confrontations, healings and reconciliations. The seed is planted at the beginning and it takes time to develop. It needs to put down roots in order to be fed, and it needs a heart of understanding, the soil, for it to be truly grounded. Eventually the film One Day brings us to that place where the heart is ready, the roots are sure and the seed has matured. Is it too late for Dexter and Emma each st Swithun’s day to flourish? Is it too late for us to fall in love again with the story of Jesus. We don’t fall in love with an idea, we fall in love with a person, we take them into our heart and let the roots go deep down. Therein lies our problem. And the film one day offers a solution… We have to live as if Jesus were still here as if he were around the next corner, in the face of the stranger, the friend, those at our work, in our homes. We need to fill in the gaps for ourselves taking the cues from the seeds of scripture we have and building a picture of the kingdom that Jesus taught. This is our tradition. At its best it provides the roots we need to be strong, but without a heart in which to plant, we have nothing to grow. Our challenge is to begin afresh with the seed once again, for sadly it has lay dormant in soil which has had no great depth and with roots which have often been cut off.

Church Closed. Graveyard Open.
Are only the dead welcome now?
Standing in the quiet hills life around
begins to emerge, or perhaps I being still
of heart become aware of its presence.
Amongst the flourishing grasses unknown
wild flower seeds have come and put down
their roots over which the occasional visitor treads.
The walls of grey stone sit silently here.
Songs once from within at an end.
Yet here outwith the walls there is a
full chorus as life takes back this ancient
space. And worship begins as we let it grow
within a heart that sings once again of love
and beauty. Wild, untamed, open and free.