Sounding the Seasons

Sounding the Seasons
70 Sonnets for the Christian Year
By Malcolm Guite

I've had the pleasure of knowing Malcolm and his wife Maggie since before they were wed, watching as they set out to carve their own ecclesiastical path in life. What an adventurous trail they have roamed!

Over the years I have memories of Puddleduck the Barge, Bikers and their grand motor bikes in Cathedrals, evenings of beer and song as Malcolm plays in local hostelries.

'twas no surprise then to be present at the launch of Malcolm's latest book Sounding the Seasons, 68 Sonnets with Pro and Epilogue to make 70. These sonnets follow the quirky and lilting seasons through the church year giving renewed expression to a timeless narrative of God's creation and grace.

Thank you Malcolm for an interesting and entertaining evening as you and those close around you read from your book. I certainly look forward to hearing and exploring these sonnets throughout the coming years.

Tilting at Windmills

At the time of writing I am in Holland, it is proving a great place to relax, recharge, pray, read and study the bible - and to sit and chat by roaring log fires.

This morning I went out to explore, like an adventurer into the unknown. I do not speak Dutch, so unable to chat with folk as they pass by, but their friendly sounding greetings did warm my gait.

I wandered around a pond, across a bridge, along a canal and past a heron. He decided to fly off when I went to say hello, I did though get a picture of him before he left.

Maybe when I get home I will crop the picture to get a better view...

Further along was the windmill, always fascinating to visit these - maybe before I leave I will go again in dry weather with my sketch pad.

Continuing, passed by many cycles (a great dutch activity) I crossed over a few dykes and eventually returned by a different waterway passing the Town Farm with the same windmill lurking through the trees, was he waiting to ambush me?

This, I think was my really favourite view so far today.

My study this morning was in Luke, my third day on Chapter 1 verses 1-38. So thoroughly struck by Mary's phrase, 'Behold the handmaiden of the Lord, be it unto me according to thy word.' KJV. "
I am so in agreement,  and repeat -

I am your servant O Lord, may it be to me as you lead. 

Amen

Time Change

I have just penned a poem of sorts, in the hours leading up to clocks going back.
An audio version is here.

Following a wind and hail filled day,

Clouds hanging thickly, darkness wrapped around,

The last few hours, ticking slowly by.

Folk gathered together lifting a pint - thirst to quench,

Or dancing in the barns, or in their homes already set.

 

Clocks tick tock, steady pace,

a slow swing to and fro,

Midnight approaches,

The last few hours, ticking slowly by.

Harvest Moon will be in Pisces now,

We wait – and wait some more,

Time will not be hurried.

 

Soon, not long, at 2am - BS will change to GM

And as 2am approaches again

The long cold journey - drawn out evenings,

Crackling fires or the drone of central heating

With summer but a memory, but gladly still to come

Beckoning us from far ahead,

For now, Autumn and winter to enjoy.

Robotic Life



I recently came accross this wee video...

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KiuBSAaKmzs

The thought of Robo Football amuses me. Robo-shopping would be useful - but a frightening thought how they could 'stand in' for us, say.. parties, meetings - would any of us send a robot to church in our stead?

That aside though, we must take care not to robotically worship God, our creator.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below,
Praise Him above ye heavenly host,
Praise Father , Son and Holy Ghost.

Does it need to be Internet versus Traditional Church?

Is there such a thing as Traditional Church, probably not - but mention Internet Church and folk jump to defend their perception of church as it should be done, a more 'traditional' idea.
Some say quality of church is more meaningfull if we are present with each other physically, I think that physical is an observance only of the outward body. We can equally display our inward selves, emotions, scars, love, delight, faith etc on as offline.
In seeking out and reading this blog or any other online blog or article you are entertaining the discussion as real.

But what about eliminating physical presence, being able to touch or smell people around you? Does online community take away a vital element?
Would a priest not give communion to a dying person in issolation whom he could not touch? Would he not consider giving it remotely?
Touch and smell are just two of our senses which feed our reactions to what's around us. Removing them, you see this in blind or deaf folk, will often heighten use of other avaiable senses - as also loss of a limb will often heighten useof other limbs.

I certainly perceive online church to be as 'real' as offline, when assembling in online church I am assembling as much with my friends as when I move my body from my house to a church building. In some ways more so, because I can join in with all the conversation and fellowship, not just that heard by and spoken to those close around me. The feeling of being 'gathered' with people worldwide is awesome, in the same way as sharing a meal with someone the other side of the world via Skype. I will sit down in the UK to eat breakfast in front of my camera and microphone whilst my freinds in Japan eat supper. Our sharing is very real, I hear about their day and their news - they hear about my yesterday.

We may use the journey from home to church preparing ourselves spiritually and mentally for worship. In the case of going to church through your laptop, puter, tablet... praparation can equally so be done on the way home from work, walking in the park, sitting in the armchair, reading the bible, praying... Surely it is how we approach God, unseen but ever present, than the physical journey, though of course it can be equally important we have a hook on which to hang our preparation.  If people are not going to prepare themselves before worship, they can be equally unprepared however they decide to worship.
If we believe in an omni-present God, everywhere, he will surely be with us where we individually go online as when we gather in a church building.

Maybe we will be give less thought to our presentation, clothing, if we access church online. Pyjamas? Dress down days?The mindset of 'dressing up' for church has been crumbling for longer than the possibility of online worship. In some churches folk still dress in their Sunday Best - which I think is brilliant. Others find T'Shirt and Jeans equally acceptable. What is to stop though, people going online dressed up or down? There are times when I stay in all day, but dress in  collar and tie, honouring some special memory; likewise I may dress up to worship and recieve communion - or not...
But surely it is how I present my heart to God, not how I dress the Lion as a Lamb, or the Lion as a Lion...

Do we need to be physically present with other people to worship with others? Morning Worship and Songs of Praise have been a great place of worship for decades on the BBC.
Is peer pressure of those physically with us really important? Is it not peer pressure that gets us into trouble in the first place, acting as we perceive others think we should act, presenting ourselves to look perfect, rather than the grubby urchins we are, cleansed only in Gods grace.

In an online community you can hide your persona, many people try. But you can only do it for so long, after a while people see the more honest and grubby you.
Exactly the same can be said for an offline community.
But in either place, it is impossible to hide from God, he sees through our disguises.

For me online church holds equal importance as offline, to me they are BOTH important.
I so look forward to being able to share Communion with an online community as much as I look forward to meals with my friends in Japan, or Communion with fellow believers in my or any other church I may physically be in.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

I have been involved with two online churches over the years, as well as going to local bricks and mortar based churches at the same time.

Of Spitfire & Pheasant.

We went for a walk yesterday near the local village of Barrington. With the sun strong on our backs it was certainly a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.

A White Pheasant flew from amongst the young corn next to the track and arced its way around behind the copse.

Meanwhile a spitfire buzzed around the sky, loop the loops, swooping and going round and round above us.



It's nice not to hurry...

If you find the writing too small, you can click on the page to get a larger version.

I think the key statement here is, "It's nice not to hurry."

Saying that, it is time now to stop blogging and hurry off to work. Oh the irony of it all.

Hunt & Darton Cafe - Café Art!

We have an Art Café openned 3 or 4 doors from the shop - for just 4 weeks.

The idea of 'Art', I was going to say 'not quite traditional', but then, who can define Art for another perceiver?

The two ladies 'running the scheme' dress in Pineapple print dresses, each wearing a Pineapple Top on their heads. they have a London 2012 grant to open the café, which is touring the UK, hence being in Cambridge just 4 weeks. Their daily balance sheet is 'Artistically' displayed on the large wall chalkboard, when I was in several folk were engaged in Napkin Art. The 'Blurb' says your receipt will be artistic too, but I was not offered one.

One waitress was on a break, or maybe peforming, whilst I was in there - she sat manikin like, legs crossed, in an artistic pose, topped off with her pineapple headgear, in the window - maybe hoping to attract the attention and intrigue of passersby.

Still, it is pretty zaney, I wonder what they will be doing with pictures taken on disposable cameras. Intruige will bring me back, and of course the very friendly chatty atmosphere encouraged. I will, no doubt, report more...

Read more about this artistic enterprise either in Cambridge News or on their Facebook Page

There is life..... outside Cambridge.

Today I was invited to visit friends out in the villages. I spend most of my life in Cambridge, living on an estate, surrounded by neighbours I don't know, 24 hour shopping, pubs within a stones throw distance on at least 3 sides... Traffic and aircraft noises an almost constant, dodging cars on my bicycle, busses, busses, busses everywhere - tourists, students...

So 'tis nice on occasion to escape to paradise. (The grass is always green tother side of the bridge.)

I declined the offer of a lift. There is a certain beauty and satisfaction in getting there on my own. In past years I may have cycled, instead opting for the train and armed with instructions starting with: "Leave the station heading accross the fields."
I just love open space, like nectar to this city dweller.

Accross the field, under a road, along the path, follow through to the church.
A nice wild and damp day, brilliantly fresh - just right for walking. Maybe a 20 minute walk to the house.

The sketch may be a little wild, but

wild countryside can be like that!

My host however, looking out of his window decided really I should have a luxurious ride in a warm and dry car, but because I left accross the fields, not via the carpark, he did not catch up with me till I was just a minute from the house.

What wonderful relaxing space this house turned out to be, amazing hosts and good company. A huge thank you to Brian, Janet, Jenny, David, Movern and Sumaya, great afternoon. Only sorry I could not stay longer to complete the feast.

Oh and Brian, I did appreciate the lift back to the train.

St Geoge's Day 2012

I spent much of this morning clearing out a cupboard and sorting the contents aswell as managing to get laundry on the line - which dried despite a forcast of rain!

After lunch, letter writing, something my readers know I love. As with all my letters, well the personal type - not the ones to the bank you know... I added quick little illustrations here and there.

The heading quite naturally illustrated St George riding out in search of dragons to slay. Happy St George's Day, to those who appreciate such things.

The weather quite often features in my heading,
Todays weather, shall we say, has been quite changeable.
But of course, it is April.

I live in suburbia, but would love someday to live out in the countryside with walks such as this on my doorstep. I do so hate the feel of pavements under my feet, far prefering a bouncy meadowy tread, or leaping rock to rock up a mountainside. Hmmmmmm - time to stop dreaming, and back to planet earth.

Looking accross my lawn last week, I noticed how well my dandelions were doing, thinking maybe not so much appreciated by neighbours. So out I went to spray them. Still looking fit and healthy mid week they got the same treatment. They had not withered by Friday, which was when I noticed I had mixed up the spray bottles! Not WEEDKILLER written on this label, this bottle was for feeding roses, and was quite liked by dandelions too!

Today they look somewhat less healthy as I too corrective action.

The Old Bedford Camper Van

From as early as I can remember our family owned an old Camper Van. It was a green Bedford with an expanding roof to give more headroom when the vehicle was at rest.

Two benches ran the length of each side at the back, the seats lifting to reveal valuable storage space. No seat belts in those days, so, you would usually find something to hold on to...

Up, below the ceiling,  2 stretcher like beds pulled out from the sides, hammock like canvas attached to both the wall and a wooden pole. More than once I would sleep up there as we travelled along windy country roads.

We used to 'camp out' on a heath, or by a stream. When it was dry we would abandon the van sleeping out under the stars. I cannot remember ever thinking the ground was uncomfortable.

Early mornings, exploring, picking blackberries, blueberries and anything else we knew to be edible. Usually even before breakfast we would have had our fill.

Cooking was done on a parafin filled primus, we crouched on rocks or logs - or if we were lucky, a camping stool. Cupping our hands round malamine mugs of steaming coffee or hot chocolate the warmth would seep through into our bodies. My mug was light blue with years of tanning inside.

The sunshine would blaze down for ever and ever, beaches, bird hides, walking, windmills, messing about on boats - playing games.

A world of fantastical memories...

Sunrise with a pen...

Holy Week

This week has been full of signposts pointing to Jesus, considering his final week living amongst us embodied in human form on earth.

I have found particularly helpful Sonnets
written and read by Malcom Guite

Palm Sunday  Monday  Tuesday  Wednesday
Maundy Thursday  Good Friday  Saturday  Easter Day

An eclectic crowd gathered for our Christian Writers group this week. I dug out my book and a pencil as Tom spoke, after a while he read us a chapter from his book - an amazing work in progress. My pencil started moving, I wondered how what I was drawing was inspired by what was going on in that room. We seemed to be drawing nourishment and learning through our faith roots together.

Sketch finnished I headed the writing side "Rooted in Faith", but had to stop at that point as we moved on.
I thought I had an idea of words mapped out in my head, but revisitting the page today other words poured out. Those words need reworking, as writers we are continually changing. But I think I understand now just a little of what God was prompting.

I imagined a plastic flower, designed for purpose of looking beautiful.
Sometimes they are made so well, you maybe poke and prod, 'Is it real? Is it not? I thought of a potters passion, or that of an athlete, digging deep into their hearts to produce what is best.

I can learn with my head all the facts on how to make a pot or run a race, and maybe succeed passably at either. But unless I have passion and dedication rooted in my heart and soul for potting I will not throw a masterpiece.

The plastic flower can only give an impression of being alive, a real plant has roots drawing up goodness from the ground.

It is easy to slip into a mechanical faith routine, led by the head and putting on a good display. But it's not being good at something, it is doing it for the right reason.

1 Corrinthians 9:24a Run in such a way as to get the prize.
Our race is not against anyone else, each one of us a solo runner.

I guess this makes me think, because sometimes I ponder the difference between

• 'doing' an act of kindness because it's the way I'm ROUTED through teaching. An action to produce a result.
• or because that's the way my heart is ROOTED in Jesus. A natural responce gaining a result.

In a worldly view, both are winners.
Colossians 2:8 See to it that no-one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ.

Hand Written Letters

In this technological age, letter writing by hand is fast disappearing.

I spoke to a 20 year old last week who claims NEVER to have written or received a hand written letter! Emails and Texts all the time, but she thought it must be something rather special to receive a personal letter through the post penned by hand.

When did you last send a letter, not an occasion card - birthday, anniversary etc.?

I love both sending and receiving letters, sadly for every 10 I send I maybe receive one in reply :(

I have used this picture to be the first of hopefully a year long series in the 365 Project.



Multilingual Bus

Sitting on the top deck of the bus tonight was a definite multi-cultural experience. Not a seat to spare and langauges from all 5 continents floating around. I was thinking how amazing it would be if I could hear and understand each conversation!

Made me think of an inverse biblical narative, the Holy Spirit enabling disciples to talk in the tounges of a multilingual crowd, each hearing in their own tounge. And then for Peter to stand and speak, each person able to understand.
Read the story in Acts Chapter 2, a book making up part of the Bible.

Father God, you are awesome. An awesome God indeed.

A Dry Patch at St Wigglesworth

A period of drought has just come to an end in my life.
No, I have not been deprived of showers, endless mugs of coffee, or had to regulate tooth washing resources - which reminds me of a campfire sketch, but that is another story.

I have been spuiritually dry, and I would say as usual, all my own fault.
I am part of a wonderful group, who for narative purposes, I will call 'Square Pegs, Round Holes', part of the Outreach Ministry at St Wibblesworth.

The registar has it most accurately, in my case at least.
Team and Members names minggled into one long list.
There are of course, those who abely lead us, whilst others follow on. Some of the led, occassionally like to lead, whilst others that lead at times find the need to be led.

Week by week we meet, square pegs in round holes - which in all fairness is a good description of absolutely anybody and everybody, even those who have worked hard at shaving of corners and pushing outwards on the long straight lines in an attempt to appear to conform.

It was my turn this week to present the devotional, a short God Slot before dissolving our partnership for another week. Writing that, I think infact the whole meeting is God Slotted; we eat together, we drink together, share stories of our weeks, troubles, woes, joys and random happenings... we do an activity, sometimes we even cry and laugh together - all the time we are doing Community.
(There you are, I got in that good old Key Word, a supporting structure beam of church, Community.)

The email had arrived 4 weeks previous, devotions following a series. Eeek, I screeched, neither accademic nor one to follow norm and protocol.
Eeek I shouted, it would have deafened you had you heard. The following weeks I grumbled and rumbled inside, moaning about not being my thing:
"How could I possibly....?
"What right had they...?
"Grumble, rumble, groan and moan. "

Fortunately it was all in my head, a secret side of me, tucked away bubbling in it's own couldron, where no-one else could see.
God could see!

Along with that, and a spiritual dryness - a self imposed lack of scripture or prayer, and a virtual ignoring of God pacing by my side. Warning lights flashed, ignored - and of course I grumbled, rumbled, groaned and moaned.

The night before, by then I realized I was intercessing at St Wibblesworth main morning service too, I sat down to................. watch a movie!

Between the hours of 1 & 3am, way after the crescent shaped moon had dipped in the west, I knuckled down to scripture and prayer, like openning a floodgate and allowing God's grace to re-enter in...., or had he ever left?

The prayers were writ.
Another disparaging glance at the Wibblesworth Square Peg Round Hole resource, I made it to bed, sleep, this time in a prayerful and praising mood - slumbering most deeply and restfully for 6 hours.

9am is far too late for me to crawl from bed, but by 10:15, bathed, medicated, breakfasted and bandaged I was amazingly early for church. That has not happenned, on the few Sundays I have struggled in, for a while.

Over breakfast I had written in my little book of random Quirks, Thoughts and Quotes, a pondering from @scribblinghappy

"Life is an adventure given by God.

I just smile and document it."

http://www.caitlinmuir.com

En-route to church I stopped peddalling for a few moments to write

"...how important it is to engrave God's Holy Word in our hearts, not by mis-quotes or bit-quotes, or incidental study of the odd verse here and there. Instead by saturating ourselves in scrpture, prayer AND the Holy Spirit."

I am reminded of a friend encouraging me into this pool, 'Come on in, the water is loverly.'
Not untill now - I have swum there many times - do I understand what God and maybe they meant by that comment.

Another jotted down note as the service began,

When I turn to scripture and prayer, I get so excited and feel God's presence.
'Why is it I so easily turn away only idly thinking of things of the Spirit, God and Jesus, and get despondant?'

The message of the service like an arrow, straight to the point. God's Grace, Forgiveness, Strength, Courage; for me it is enough. Smack between the eyes, bullseye! Whack! POW!
What of the grumble, rumble, moan and groan.

After lunch I dug out that crumpled sheet of words which had opennly laughed at and ridiculled me for 4 weeks. This time, with poetic beauty and guidance from the Holy Spirit, yes God really did send us his Helper, words penned both on paper and in my mind; pretty soon these were shared, chatted about, thrown around and provided a fitting end to our 'St Wibblesworth Square Pegs, Round Holes' gathering - which hopefully will be chewed over this coming week.