God Awakening

God Awakening

I will celebrate the victory of my God in silence, and in song. 

I will gaze upon the likeness

Of the one-who-was pierced.

I will touch the mystery

Of the dead-one-living.

I will trace his signature over my heart: North to South

East to West:

King of Kings Lord of Lords.

I will open my mouth to sing the serenade of the stars, 

The song of the angels before the throne of God.

I will shout into the sunrise, a canticle for my King: 

‘Rejoice! Rejoice!

The Lord is Risen -

Alleluia!’

I will bury myself in his joy, And, with laughter,

I will rise again.

God's Friday

I have one of my signature chest infections, and it's jolly inconvenient. At least it frees me up to blog.

Most of the Triduum will pass me by this year, I am not even sure that I will make the Easter Vigil on Saturday night, which is going to be a problem, because I am Flower Monitor and the flowers are placed in the church immediately before the Gloria and if I'm not there, WHO'S GOING TO ORGANISE IT?

I fetched the flowers from the wholesaler yesterday, and dropped them off at Gail's house. She is an artist, and what she does will be uplifting and amazing. I just put them in pots.

Gail is, like me, a convert to Catholicism, and the shine hasn't worn off. I often feel I need to apologise for being a Catholic, because everybody knows that since the Church become a corporate arm of the state in three-hundred- and-something, very bad things have happened. Still are, I expect, I make no excuses.

"Bad Day?" Gail was looking frazzled.

"My boss (An Evangelist) won't come tomorrow because we're idolaters." Eye roll. So this Man of God had spent the day bending Gail's ear, with, basically, "Why You Shouldn't Be A Catholic For Dummies." No wonder non-Christians laugh at us. What a plonker.

Not going to fall into the trap of passing any (other) judgement on him. I give Gail a hug, and leave to go to bed with paracetamol and a gallon of water.

It was my turn to preach at Outdoor Church on Tuesday. I say, "Preach" but it's a lot less grand than that really. Outdoor Church meets in Gloucester Park on Tuesday's, and is pretty much just that.

I'm nervous. The last time I preached it all ended in tears (mine). Our people are not pretty people, and sometimes the sheer hopelessness of their lives spills out as anger. I get it. Or, I got it, both barrels, and, 'fessing up, I deserved it.

So I'm sitting on the steps of the bandstand stilling my mind, quieting my heart ready for the service to start.

Kurt and Graham are letting off steam. Some Christian had told them they couldn't be friends with them because they're 'clients.' And they are angry. "They're fake." Says Kurt. "Never met a true Christian!"

I don't intervene. If I had, I'd have said,

"We're ALL plonkers."

 

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#MicroblogMondays: Easter Vigil

 

At dusk, we, the congregation, gather around a fire. 'Christ the light of the world', we sing, as the Paschal Candle is lit. Our own candles are lit from it, and we process into an unlit church to await the moment in the ritual when we sing 'Glory to God in the The Highest ... !' Light blazes forth, darkness is overcome, death defeated, and once more we proclaim "Christ is Risen! Hallelujah!"

 

The ceremony around the fire takes me back to my deepest roots, to the earliest stirrings of religion in my remotest ancestors.

 

Drawn to the fire, I feel at one with everyone throughout the ages, of every faith, or none, who struggles to fathom the great mystery of the cosmos, and discovers that their role is just to be here, to stay with the mystery, and to say "Yes" to life.

 

Hallelujah!

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Exsultet!

I will celebrate the victory of my God in silence, and in song.

I will gaze upon the likeness

Of the one-who-was pierced.

I will touch the mystery

Of the dead-one-living.

I will trace his signature over my heart:

North to south

East to west:

King of Kings

Lord of Lords.

I will open my mouth to sing the serenade of the stars,

The song of the angels before the throne of God.

 I will shout into the sunrise, a canticle for my King:

‘Rejoice!   Rejoice!

The Lord is Risen -

Alleluia!’

I will bury myself in his joy,

And, with laughter,

I will rise again.