Virtual Methodist

Posts

Non-Annunciation (a Re-blog)

I am being very environmentally friendly with all the recycling of old stuff... For the various seasonal services I've been planning I've largely been using pieces by other poets, rather than writing anything new myself... I just have not had the creative energy. And even with these blogs, where I have been delving into my back-catalogue to reflect where I feel I am at the moment, I find that many of my words and ideas are second-hand. Last week I offered a piece inspired in large part by Janet Lees. Here in this one written in the dark days (and nights) of the 2020 pandemic lockdown, which speaks into how I've been feeling in recent days, I have shamelessly stolen from Christina Georgina Rossetti and St. John of the Cross. Middle of the night, midwinter As bleak as any I’ve known With no snow on snow To cover the decay underfoot. Awake awaiting the dawn Enfolded in the echoing dark The cold silence pregnant With potential, blessing, piercing. But the archangel...

Crying in the Wilderness - A Reblog for the 2nd Sunday of Advent

A poem included in my first published collection of poetry " Doodlings and Doggerel " with the dedication "After Isaiah, John the Baptist and Janet Lees." The first two are obvious. The third is a poet who contributed a similar piece to the Christian Aid Advent and Christmas anthology "Shine On" and which I only unearthed years after writing various versions of what follows, realising how her cire concept and phraseology had worked its way into my thinking. It confirmed for me what I have long believed... that I am a literary magpie... stealing shiny words, phrases and ideas from others to repurpose them... But good art should always influence and inspire others, prompting not just the theft and recycling of words, but a chain reaction of creativity. So as I reblog/recycle my own words this morning msy they prompt some sort of response in you my reader/s. There’s still a lot of crying in the wilderness, In the post-industrial wastelands, The ...

Benedictus - In Memoriam (a reblog)

10 Days ago I joined many others at Clonard Monastery for the 10th Anniversary Memorial of the death of Father Gerry Reynolds. Honestly, I was torn being there. The past few months have been hectic for various reasons, and a number of situations have put me under significant pressure and left me feeling more than a little anxious. Maybe I will be able to write about them at another time, but that time has not yet come... And on that particular evening there were many, many things clouding my heart and mind. But I had not been able to attend Father Gerry's funeral 10 years ago, so I was determined not to miss this opportunity to mark not only the death but the life of a man who was a massive influence on me and countless others. And as it turned out it was doubly right that I was there, because a couple of people referred to a repeated refrain of Father Gerry's "Let it unfold..." And it was as if I was hearing Gerry speaking to me directly from the grave, gently correc...

Grosvenor Hall: A Song to Close...

The Grosvenor Hall congregation had its final service yesterday afternoon, marking 136 years of faithful worship and witness. The work of the wider Belfast Central Mission goes on however, and indeed, we will be gathering again in Grosvenor House on the second Sunday of next month to mark the beginning of the Annual Toy/Gift Appeal... But back in June, after the decision had to close had been taken, I was out visiting some members of the congregation who hadn't been out for a few weeks, and after a fruitless attempt to visit two houses in a row I thought I would stop off in Sir Thomas and Lady Dixon Park and grab a coffee. It was a beautiful day and I had been listening to Eddi Reader singing Burns songs in the car, and as I sat in the sunshine the following song, set to the tune of "Ae Fond Kiss" sprang almost fully formed into my head. At yesterday's emotional farewell, my two friends Jim Deeds and Diane Holt, sang these words as a benediction to those who had gathe...

Grosvenor Hall: A Home in the Heart of the City...

After a few years as “ecclesiastical gypsies” by 1893 the Mission Committee realised that they needed a permanent home and towards the end of that year the site on which Grosvenor House now sits was bought by the Committee treasurer... And on 25th October of the following year the first Grosvenor Hall was opened...Or rather the Central Hall as it was formally called... But it quickly became known as the Grosvenor Hall by all who used it, and passed on the name officially to the second building that replaced it, in 1927. At first an adjacent building to the hall on Glengall Street was rented to host the social work and smaller meetings, but this was quite a costly arrangement, and so two years after the hall was opened an annex was built that not only increased the size of the main hall to 3000 if needed (slightly more than we need today) but also offices and smaller meeting rooms. But the cost of all of this was massive in those days. Crawford Johnson and his faithful treasurer Thomas ...

Grosvenor Hall: The Stairway to Heaven and the House of God

Custom House Square is central to a lot of Belfast's history down through the years. The Farset River which gave the city its name as Béal Feirste, the "Mouth of the Sandy River", runs under it and empties into the Lagan just beyond the building which gives it its name "The Custom House" which was erected here in the middle of the 19th century… As such it reflects Belfast’s origins as a maritime trading town, and its development as an industrial and commercial powerhouse in the 19th century under the British Empire. It’s one of the many buildings in Belfast (including Queens University) designed by Charles Lanyon. But McHugh’s Bar across the square which dates from the 17th century, reflects another dimension in Belfast’s origins as a port. Both it and DuBarry’s Bar that used to sit beside it, were “houses of ill repute” frequented by sailors. So Custom House Square was a space where people from all levels of Belfast society could meet. The statue on the steps ...