Advent Poetry: Gabriel's Annunciation

Yesterday I shared John Donne's "Annunciation" today I share a longer and more contemporary poem offering a different perspective on the same event, but one also by someone who is both a cleric and a poet. Actually Jan Richardson, today's author is not only a United Methodist Minister and poet, she is also a gifted visual artist and has ministered to many people in both word and image over the years, and has even used her own grief on the loss of her husband and collaborator Garrison Doles in 2013 to develop some powerfully healing resources. I first came across her through another friend in England and the use of her work in the online "The Text this Week" resource, but she is a close friend of two friends of mine and on one of their visits to Belfast we had a brief dinner together at which I was reduced to the role of tongue-tied fanboy... She regularly leads Advent retreats and produces resources for this time of year, indeed I picked up her "Through the Advent Door: Entering a Contemplative Christmas" late this year (in the chaos of this year, contemplation has not had the place it perhaps should!!!), and she is currently leading an "online journey into the heart of Christmas" entitled "Illuminated 2020" which you might like to check out, even at this late stage.

Shalom

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LentArt: Washing the Disciples' Feet

Today's #LentArt post is "The washing of the disciples' feet" by Ghislaine Howard, another piece from the wonderful Methodist Modern Art Collection. It has clearly struck a chord with a number of people, and I am delighted that tonight's guest blog is by my friend and fellow 4 Corners Director, Father Martin Magill, who, he will be embarrassed to have me say, is for me the epitome of a servant leader. Indeed it was interesting to have a friend and artist respond to my earlier post saying that this time last year she remembers having her feet washed by Martin... How much has changed in a year: This painting (completed in 2004) was inspired by these words from the gospel of John in today's lectionary: Jesus knew that the Father had delivered all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was returning to God. So He got up from the supper, laid aside His outer garments, and wrapped a towel around His waist. After that, He poured water ...

Living under the Empire... (2) Where is Babylon?

We were driving back from school last week, talking about books that we had been reading and my younger son, Ciaran, asked me "Where is Babylon?" I have to confess that my history is better than my geography, and I said that it no longer exists as an inhabited city, but its ruins were to the north west of the current capital of Iraq, Baghdad. When I checked however, I discovered that it is actually about 50 miles south of Baghdad and the modern town is the administrative centre of the province of Babil... But just as the modern city is but a shadow of the historic capital of 2 ancient empires, first under Hammurabi in the 18th century BCE and then the "Neo-Babylonian" empire (under Nebuchadnezzar etc) in the 6th century BCE, so the earthly Babylonian empire/s was/were fleeting in comparison to the enduring metaphorical idea of Babylon. The original Empire under Hammurabi was probably the ultimate origin of some of the early Biblical stories, including the ...

A Woman of no Distinction

Don't often post other people's stuff here... But I found this so powerful that I thought I should. It's a performance poem based on John 4: 4-30, and I have attached the original YouTube video below. A word for women, and men, everywhere... "to be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known." I am a woman of no distinction of little importance. I am a women of no reputation save that which is bad. You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances, Though you don’t really take the time to look at me, Or even get to know me. For to be known is to be loved, And to be loved is to be known. Otherwise what’s the point in doing either one of them in the first place? I WANT TO BE KNOWN. I want someone to look at my face And not just see two eyes, a nose, a mouth and two ears; But to see all that I am, and could be all my hopes, loves and fears. But that’s too much to hope for, to wish for, or pray for So I don’t, not anymore. Now I keep to myself And by that ...

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