Friday, 8 September 2017

Exiles and Beachcombers


During this summer I have the huge privilege of taking three months Sabbatical study leave. I have been "Reading the Letter to the Ephesians as a Mystical Text". Should you interested you can see something of what I've been about at the web site in which I have recorded the way it has developed. It is now a "tidy" web site but in no sense finished. It can't be. But if you want to Read how The Blessed Virgin Mary might have inspired the Pauline school at Ephesus to write the Letter to (or from) the Ephesians - take a look

Meanwhile this is my September Blog ...........


It's clear
when someone points it out to you
and you wonder why you never saw it for yourself
it's time for a new diaspora
a new exile
a time for the Church to fragment its institutions
to regroup
to fall apart in human terms and find death
and so
resurrection
the one Way


Our leaders
(declare a blessing, yes, speak well, of each one of them)
want to save us, shore up the leaks, turn things around
go for growth
and there will be small victories here and there
to egg them on
but the real task is to look to the End
from which today is resourced
that daily bread which is just that
bread for the morrow
but not the afternoon
living by faith


the Church wants a longer term settlement
and will do a million things, shout, wave, be involved in many activities
and people will benefit
no mistake
- each a starfish that matters -

but the tide will still go out and
the long term is a dry beach
where the beachcombers will know
how to wait
in the sand blown breath
and the salt filled air
and be content with now


the tide will come in
sometime


it’s the neaps of the Spirit
brooding between the tide marks
and it may seem long
flow tide is for another long day
not this one, nor many tomorrows to come
on this wide beach the beachcombers
pick a living
amongst the flotsam and jetsam
the daily promise of bread for breakfast
which is all the promise we ever had


smile with  sadness and joy which is the freedom of lament
and warm the disillusioned with a cloak of friendship
and the ring of acceptance
and feast, as always
we beachcombers
with the Fire Maker
on the fish of the resurrection beach