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A Skinny Fairtrade Latte in the Food Court of Life - Page 483

  • Communion

    The first Sunday of the month is, unsurprisingly, Communion Sunday at the Gathering Place.  Recently I have to an extent 'formalised' arrangements for taking communion with those often termed "shut-ins"... trying to ensure that it happens in the week following the church's celebration of communion and making sure that at least one, and preferably two or three, other people go with me.

    This week was the first time we managed to organise to share with each of the two people who are no longer able to get to church.  Each was a very special time, and each moving, humbling and a sign of community.  For any Anglican or Catholic readers, we were almost at the 'reserved sacrament' level, as I took the left over bread and juice from Sunday (though had to buy new bread yesterday for the second visit) and for ordinance theoligians like me it was just common sense not to waste food!!

     

    A coffee table is set with mismatched glasses

    (A wine glass, a tumbler and what looks suspiciously like a whisky glass)

    A quarter loaf lies on a serviette

    From memory we sing a hymn, and half a hymn, and a psalm

    "The Lord's my shepherd"

    "Blessed Assurance"

    "Great is thy Faithfulness"

    Familiar words and forms transport us back in time

    And across in space

    Linking India and Aberdeen, Northampton and Glasgow

    "When you do this, remember"

     

    Another coffee table is set with gleaming crystal sherry glasses,

    (A source of amusement to host and guest)

    A perfect roll sits on a sideplate

    Next to it, on a large plate, a splendid, iced sponge cake

    Awaits its fate

    Hymnbooks this time, No 144, No 555

    Pitched too high, then too low, by verse three we get there

    More links of place and time

    Wales and London and College and Kirk

    "When you do this, remember"

     

    Two nonagenarians (one almost a centenarian)

    Re-membering and re-connecting

    With times and places and people

    And with the God who comes close

    When a few people gather in Christ's name -

    "When you do this, remember"

  • Advent Pauses

    This evening is the first of our Advent Pauses - a thirty minute guided reflection based on material from Christian Aid and focusing on the lectionary Isaiah readings for Advent Year A!  I am looking forward to leading this first of three (we couldn't make four work this year!) evenings.

    The same material will be repeated tomorrow lunchtime, led by one of our many talented folk, and will be followed by a simple lunch, with donations for Christian Aid.

    Anyone who happens to be passing the Gathering Place at either time is very welcome to drop in, slow down and reflect.

  • 'Haphazard by Starlight' - Day 4

    Shadows

    by D H Lawrence

     

    And if tonight my soul may find her peace
    in sleep, and sink in good oblivion,
    and in the morning wake like a new-opened flower
    then I have been dipped again in God, and new-created.

    And if, as weeks go round, in the dark of the moon
    my spirit darkens and goes out, and soft strange gloom
    pervades my movements and my thoughts and words
    then I shall know that I am walking still
    with God, we are close together now the moon’s in shadow.

    And if, as autumn deepens and darkens
    I feel the pain of falling leaves, and stems that break in storms
    and trouble and dissolution and distress
    and then the softness of deep shadows folding,
    folding around my soul and spirit, around my lips
    so sweet, like a swoon, or more like the drowse of a low, sad song
    singing darker than the nightingale, on, on to the solstice
    and the silence of short days, the silence of the year, the shadow,
    then I shall know that my life is moving still
    with the dark earth, and drenched
    with the deep oblivion of earth’s lapse and renewal.

    And if, in the changing phases of man’s life
    I fall in sickness and in misery
    my wrists seem broken and my heart seems dead
    and strength is gone, and my life
    is only the leavings of a life:

    and still, among it all, snatches of lovely oblivion, and snatches of renewal
    odd, wintry flowers upon the withered stem, yet new, strange flowers
    such as my life has not brought forth before, new blossoms of me

    then I must know that still
    I am in the hands [of] the unknown God,
    he is breaking me down to his own oblivion
    to send me forth on a new morning, a new man.

  • 'Haphazard by Starlight' - Day 3

    Autumn's Fall

    by Kerrie Hardie


    It seems the rain will be its end - the smell

    of rotting-down in ditches, under trees,

    the sharp scent of late apples in wet grass,

    the spent leaves guttering in the stone-flagged well.


    The spaces in the branches stretch and grow.

    High spiralling of crows in thin sky.

    The grey drift of the distance.  Nothing more

    Of hope or exultation in the flow

     

    of damp air from the windows that I leave

    to let the year move quietly through the house

    preparing for the long dark and the cold,

    loosening the nets spent thoughts still weave,

     

    clinging as cobwebs.  There must be space for death,

    and witness for this seep of emptying light;

    for winter, pressing with the cattle at the gate,

    clouding the darkness with their frightened breath.

  • 'Haphazard by Starlight' - Day 2

    November Sonnet

    by Elizabeth Jennings

     

    Spirit of place.  Spirit of time. Re-form

    The rugged oaks and chestnuts.  Now they stand

    Naked and pallid giants out of storm

    And out of sorts.  It is the Autumn's end

     

    And this Winter brought in by All Saints

    Fast followed by All Souls to keep us in

    Touch with chill and death.  Each re-acquaints

    Us with the year's end. Yet we now begin

     

    A life of realism, watching out

    For a red sunset, grateful for a dawn

    Of rich light now.  Tall shadows step and and strut

     

    Facing the big wind daily coming on

    Faster.  This is the season of right doubt

    While that elected child waits to be born.