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 housing estates once lauded

As places of new hope.

The slums had been levelled

And the high rises raised up.

Peace had come and prosperity

Would follow in its wake.

But the hope has now run out,

The jobs have been exported,

And peace brings little prosperity

To those who always pay

the highest price for conflict.

The streets need straightened up,

The potholes need filled in

and the pavements re-laid.

Who will cry out with comfort for the hurting?

Who will call out the purveyors of pain?

Topple the towering monuments to division

And use the rubble as the foundation

for God’s new motorway

straight into the hurting heart of this city,

into the heart of the problem,

into your heart and mine.

Bend and break the proud and the powerful,

Raise up those who are bent and burdened,

Lift up their eyes from all they have known

The painful past and present impotence

So that they can see that God is coming,

Bringing real peace, tangible hope

and justice that cannot be bought.

Cry out...

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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 ...

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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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