Checking final proofs – Jesus said “I am”.

So, it’s arrived!

An envelope containing the “final proofs” is here in Suffolk, and I have two weeks to go through them and answer a reassuringly short list of queries…. as well as  makingany final amendments I may wish to make.  I shall try to resist doing too much of that at this stage….

I asked for a paper copy as well as a pdf, as there is something about the black type on white paper which helps me read it as a book, and hopefully read it more attentively as a result.

It is laid out on proper pages, and does feel quite real.

So, here goes!

 

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The publication date has been put back to January.  I’ll let you know when I know more!

Poem – The courtesie of pigeons

Each morning at the moment, I go outside to see what’s happening.  I don’t get up with the dawn, so by the time I go outside, life has been bursting out for a couple of hours – there’s always something beautiful that makes me catch my breath.

I spend time sitting, meditating, or in contemplative prayer, and then I get out my notebook and try to write what I see, what is happening right now.

Our old bench was beginning to rock and sway, especially if more than one person sat on it, so we have a beautiful new one from Genesis, Orwell Mencap  I particularly like the way that someone involved in making the furniture comes to help deliver it, and see where it will be enjoyed.

 

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Sometimes, sitting on the bench, life’s dramas play out before you. This one, with the pair of pigeons who nest in our garden, felt like part of an old chivalric romance, hence the rather archaic spelling….

The courtesie of pigeons

The pigeons, on the roof-ridge,
or on the black line of the
telephone wire,
begin this dance the same
each day.

She, head bowed slightly away,
He, with a deep murmur,
bows low, his beak sinks
to meet the wire, or the tile.
With a tail elevated to the sky,
he puffs up, more than
his full size,
his wings droop slightly.
He rises and bows,
Rises and bows.

My strength, lady,
is yours to command,
is at your disposal
should you wish it, lady.

But she steps sideways,
and again,
and flies, nonetheless,
but, nonetheless,
she cannot always do so,

for each year, come summer,
plump grey squabs sidle
across the lawn,
feasting on its richness.

 

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Photograph by Africa Gomez

 

It calls to mind another pigeon saga…..Nest

Quiet Spaces – one on The Four Loves, by C S Lewis, and a bit about the Wedding.

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Philip Wilson Steer – Walberswick,       a beach on the Suffolk Coast

I’ve just finished writing a series of meditations drawing on C S Lewis’ short book, The Four Loves.   It’s for a BRF publication, Quiet Spaces , a series I love to read, and to write for.  I always feel I go deeper as I try out my ideas for meditations and exercises, and as I work on them with Sally Smith, the editor.

The publication isn’t coming out till next summer, but I thought I might just share a few snippets with you, especially in the light of Harry and Meghan’s wedding on Saturday, and the joy of love, and the sometimes pain of love, that occasion embodied.  The palpable absence of the groom’s mother, the solitary presence of the bride’s mother, remind us that nothing is unmixed, that sorrow and difficulty are found in every place, in every heart.

Bishop Curry’s moving and powerful sermon captivated so many of us watching.  I will listen to it again and again. I hope I can take it to heart, to seek to live more in the light of its truth. The power of love to transform, the way of love shown us by Jesus, were shown us in the words, and heart behind the words, that flowed out to those present, and to those far away.  It was deep and authentic.

He was drawing on the Song of Solomon, one of the readings I had chosen to dwell on for this work.  The reading at the wedding was from chapter 2 and also chapter 8, and can be found here.

You might like to use this combined passage for the exercise below.

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Philip Wilson Steer

 

So, here are some snippets from the meditations.  I hope they enrich your day.

 

From my introduction:

“”God is love,” says St John”  – this is Lewis’s opening sentence. It is the spring from which all the rest flows. The essence of Jesus’ teaching is that we love – love God, our neighbours, even our enemies.

Love like this is received as a gift, but also needs to be learned, to be worked out.  The way of the Cross shows us a love which is far from easy.  The natural loves can help us take steps, to steady our walk, as we seek to follow the path of Jesus, who loved us, and gave himself for us…

Meditation with drawing

“And we were put on Earth a little space,
That we might learn to bear the beams of love.”
Wm Blake (Songs of Innocence and Experience)

Find a quiet space
Rest in the knowledge that God loves you, and delights in you.
Breathe in and out slowly
Know God is with you, looking at you tenderly and compassionately. You can imagine God enfolding you if you prefer.
You are God’s beloved child.
Breathe in love.  Breathe out love.
If you can, call to mind some action or thought of yours which is good, and loving.
Thank God for the love that flows through you.
Breathe in love.  Breathe out love.

Take some pencils or other art equipment.  Draw and write the words of Blake above, or a Bible verse about God’s love.  Return your attention to God’s love for you again and again.

And, in honour of the royal wedding, and all who are committing their lives to loving each other this summer, from the sections on Eros ….

Romantic love – Eros

Lewis describes Eros as “the kind of love which lovers are in”.
……
Eros transforms a ‘need pleasure’ into an ‘appreciate pleasure’.  We see the miracle of the beloved – they are wondrous.  We see in them something of the “imago dei”, the image of God.    This love can wipe out the distinction between giving and receiving.  It can take us to a point beyond ourselves:  “love you, I am you!” (89).
This kind of love… is close to the kind of love God has for us.  The total commitment, the adoration and sacrifice of God’s love for us has its echo here.

……..

Drawing meditation
Read a passage from the Song of Solomon, suggest Ch 2.
Reread it slowly, and draw or paint a response, freely and spontaneously.  Doodle if that suits you.  Feel the abundant life and energy of the passage.
Dwell with the love of the couple.
Then, when you are ready, turn your mind to considering how God delights in you, and celebrates you in love and song.  Can you receive that?
How might it change your relationships to be so “rooted and grounded in love” (Eph 3:17-19)?

BRF are publishing my book, Jesus said “I am” in October this year.  It started life as a similar series of meditations, but it was wonderful to have more space to explore and develop ideas, and to include a wide range of possible responses to take into our everyday lives.  Soon, I’ll have the text to go through one last time……..

 

Sunday Retold – The Spirit Comes, Pentecost

Sharing a reading and prayers for this Sunday – Pentecost.
Peace and Joy to you!

Andrea Skevington

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We celebrate Pentecost this weekend, and the story continues its extraordinary movement outwards.  Last week, it was Ascension, when Jesus left the disciples. They were still thinking in terms of their own people, and Jesus showed them an ever widening perspective (Acts 1:6-9)

Now, we see how God continues to open and include.  It seems that all those gathered together (1:14-15) were part of the great outpouring of the Spirit, and the impact on the listeners suggests God was at work beyond even those.  The barriers between us of race, gender, nationality, language, youth and age, are being broken down, moving us towards a deep unity (Col 1:17, Gal 3:28). No wonder the whole house was filled with a great sound! This is powerful and much needed work.

We notice how the barrier of language is overcome.  We notice that God’s priority is not to change…

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Good Friday Retold

Some simple readings for today.

Andrea Skevington

A simple reading and prayers for this Holy Friday

From The Bible Retold and Prayers and Verses

Please feel free to use any of my material that helps you, saying where it is from

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THE ROAD OF TEARS, AND THE PLACE OF THE SKULL (Luke 23:26-49)

Jesus stumbled under the heavy wooden cross, weak from his beating, and so the soldiers seized Simon, a visitor from Cyrene in north Africa, and gave him the cross to carry.  Jesus followed slowly over the rough, hard road.

A large crowd followed, and among them were many women, sobbing.  He turned to them and said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me. You and your children will know enough pain.”

Two other men were led out to be crucified with Jesus at Golgotha, the Place of the Skull: one on his left, and one on his right.  So Jesus was…

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Poem: Lent 1 – Scream

 

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Hunger.

The first of Jesus’ temptations, Luke tells us, was to turn stones into bread.  Our hungers are real, even those of us who live in places where food is abundant, where we eat too much for our own good, and the good of others. Deep hungers drive us without our even knowing.

The lent discipline of fasting has never been one I have observed much.  I have, from time to time, tried giving up some kind of treat, but so far it has always been a form of self-indulgence all the same.  For my own good, for selfish reasons, for reasons of vanity, even.  This year I have been trying to open my eyes to the impact of my appetite on others.  I have been attempting to do so with gratitude for all the things that sustain my life, but I have dared to try to consider those things that were hidden – the hidden impact of my buying and eating in all its various forms.  Too much all at once would be too much for me, overwhelming, but……
but, today, this happened.  It pulled me up short.

 

Lent 1 – Scream

The sound unsettled me
before I knew I heard it –
Standing up straight, skin prickling,
I turned – what was it?
so like a scream,
like many, many screams.

Not the cry of waders on the river –
louder, larger, full of terror,
one to the other
passing the fear, rippling
back and forth.

And then I saw, stopped
at the traffic lights,
a galvanised lorry
dark slits along the side,
the occasional flash
of pink flesh.

Pigs. To market,
to slaughter.
I had been on my way
to the butchers to buy
gammon –
not now, not tonight.

Mushrooms, peppers,
herbs, garlic, roasted, yes.
We do not know what we do.
 

We have a publication date!

Some of you kind readers may remember that I’ve been working on a book over the past year or so – exploring the I Am sayings of Jesus.

I am delighted to be able to share with you that it will be published on 19th October, 2018.  The publisher, BRF, has kindly put an early page up on its shop, although I do not think you can order it yet – I’ll let you know when that is possible.

The title is, “Jesus said, “I am” – finding life in the everyday”

As we get nearer to October, I’ll tell you more about it, and hopefully share some of my work with you.  But, to give you some idea – in each chapter I spend some time exploring and reflecting on a part of John’s gospel, trying to immerse us in what was going on for Jesus at the time, and how that might connect to us and our lives now.  Then, I go on to offer suggestions for our response.  There are some questions to prompt thought or discussion, but also creative exercises, social engagement, things to do as you go about your day, prayers for personal or community use…  It’s about how we live, and how we have life.
I hope to give you some examples soon.

It has been taking me a while to do this, so thank you for your patience, and I look forward to sharing more with you soon.

Christmas Retold – Escape to Egypt

Andrea Skevington

Part of the Sunday Retold series – for the first Sunday of the Christmas Season.The readings many churches will be following this week are Matthew 2:13-23 and  Isaiah 63:7-9
Today, 28th December, is also the day the church remembers those who suffer in the Matthew story – the children who are killed at Herod’s order, and all those who weep for them.

It is one of the hardest stories to read in the gospels – that of Herod’s terrible plan to put to death all the tiny boys in Bethlehem.  It calls to mind Pharaoh’s instructions that all the newborn boys should be killed, and that calling to mind is no accident  (Exodus 1).  Matthew’s account is full of reference to the earlier story. The family run to Egypt, across the wilderness, later to retrace the journey, like a second Moses.  All these elements of Israel’s suffering and…

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Dorset Poems – Scrumping in a Hurricane

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So, here is another poem from our trip to Dorset, when we stayed in this beautiful, remote National Trust cottage.  Like most of the poems, the extraordinary weather plays a part.  This time, the powerful winds and sudden gusts of the remains of Hurricane Ophelia brought an end to the moral dither I was in about apples.

There were many glorious and very ancient apple trees, which presumably were owned by the National Trust, being on their land.  However, it was so remote down our lanes that it was hardly surprising that no-one was gathering them.  I could gather them. Whether or not I had a right to, I was unsure.   On the other hand, to let so much food go to waste is another kind of crime.  Food use versus property rights.  I knew what I thought of that particular tussle, but only acted when Ophelia swept along, and swept the fruit off the trees.

The apples really were delicious!

 

Scrumping in a hurricane

So, here are the old apple trees,
behind a wall of warm stone.
Their branches, their trunks,
are gnarley and twisted,
some drip grey with lichen,
all are heavy with fruit.

They belong to the old manor
where we stay,
a remnant of an ancient hamlet.
So, do they belong to us,
here as we are
for only a few days?

The smell drifts over the wall,
sweet, you can taste the juice
in your mouth.
The apples lie in red,
extravagant heaps in
the long grass.
No one comes to gather them.

And then, storm warnings shake
the branches,
and then, the skirts of the
hurricane brush the hillside,
and as the apples fall,
I go and gather them,
enough for us while we
are here,
and peel them as the
juice flows over my hands,
and cook them with the blackberries
that whip across the path

And eat.  What are they?
No varieties I know,
but they are good, so good,
and good the next day
in porridge,
and good the day after
cold, and purple,
and sweet.