Nails!

Manger and Cross: CGI by the Author

Nails

A baby’s hand

waves from a crude-wood  manger.

An exquisite example

of that child’s creative genius:

soft, already marked

uniquely with Davidic fingerprints,

and bending, flexing

with the loveliness of new birth.

In that condition, utterly dependent

on the love and care

of a young, disgraced maiden .

 

The silky, small fingers

reach out involuntarily

beautifully ending in

tiny, perfect nails

 

A young man’s hands

fashion rough wood

as he follows the example

Of his father’s trade.

Learning, and learned

in scriptures, beyond his years.

Bending, flexing, mind and muscle

to the demands of apprenticeship:

In that, gaining independence

From the love and care

Of awed, astonished parents.

 

A ruggedness in the hands

that reach out determinedly,

with fingers that manipulate

potentially dangerous nails

 

Outstretched arms

pinioned on coarse wood.

An iconic example

of that man’s divine love.

Human, already scourged

Near death with hallmarks of barbarity.

Now groaning, twitching

wracked with the vileness of crucifixion.

In that, utterly isolated

From the love and care

Of his eternal, Almighty Father.

 

A withered-ness of the flesh

reaching out voluntarily

with hands pierced

by crude, vicious nails.

 

Psalm 93 Reimagined for the Second Space Age

Original Introduction in brackets here, but equally appropriate at  any time we want to praise our amazing God

(As we approach the end of the Christmas period at Candlemas, an opportunity to think of the cosmic relevance of the incarnation) 

Psalm 93 Reimagined for the Second Space Age

 

You, Lord, are ruler of the whole universe:

you are robed in the fabric of the cosmos

which was established at your Word.

The vastness of space and time

cannot contain you, Lord.

You are from and to everlasting.

Constellations are testimonies to your might,

Planets and their inhabitants praise you

   in joyful outpourings of known and unknown tongues.  

More majestic than the roar of gargantuan waters

that dwarf all of earth’s mighty oceans;

more majestic than storms that are indescribably vast,

are you, Almighty God

.

You reign in eternity and even now know the

    time of your return and the end-time of the universe .

Your laws guide us into truth, righteousness and justice.

Let me delight in the holiness of your domain

both now and forever, O mighty God.

If you appreciate this sort of re-working, you may like a similar refashioning of part of Job 38 which you can find HERE 

And here is the original in the NRSV

The Lord is king, he is robed in majesty;
   the Lord is robed, he is girded with strength.
He has established the world; it shall never be moved; 
   your throne is established from of old;
   you are from everlasting. 

The floods have lifted up, O Lord,
   the floods have lifted up their voice;
   the floods lift up their roaring. 
More majestic than the thunders of mighty waters,
   more majestic than the waves of the sea,
   majestic on high is the Lord! 

Your decrees are very sure;
   holiness befits your house,
   O Lord, for evermore.

This Time, This Place: this Gift of Grace

 This Time, This Space: Retreat into Grace

A very short history of a Medieval Retreat House!

 

This time, this space:

this gift of grace

is balm to the soul:

where farmlands roll

to converge and enclose

where Abbots imposed

their tithing demands

on all those who rented their land.

 

Such wealth, such realms

with Oak, Ash, and Elm,

incited a King

to annexe everything

that was clerically owned

and could be handed on

to henchmen-at-arms,

who’d exploit those former church farms.

 

In time this place

became a space

where stillness might reign;

letting Moderns abstain

from their feverish rounds                              

and the clamorous sounds

of our time and place.

Indeed, a locale of great grace.       

 

Trevor Thorn: Launde: January 2023.

A Reflection on This Time, This Space.

 

Last week, we just made it to Launde Abbey and its exquisite surroundings in a beautiful natural bowl of Leicestershire. I say ‘just’ because so much militated against us getting there. Our purposes of that journey were so Pam could join a Quilting group week and I could settle to the bliss of three and a half days for writing and editing some of my earlier scribblings.

 

First, I uncovered a virus in my laptop. Looked nasty – and no chance of our friendly local expert being able to attend to it before we left on Monday morning. Thankfully Pam would not be using her laptop whilst quilting, so I was able to access the essential tools of a thesaurus and a rhyming dictionary – but not my image library, nor some of those older notes I had planned to edit.

 

But, rather worse, on the Saturday before the Monday we were due to leave, towards the end of a longish journey, our car’s brakes began to grind in an unpleasantly gruesome way. A garage visit Monday morning confirmed my suspicions – the car should not be driven, other than to return home across our village.

 

Hiring a car at very short notice proved not to be possible, but our son-in-law was free and willing to transport us. How very fortunate – and what a blessing. We arrived only half-an-hour into Pam’s programme though the return journey would have to be resolved during the week.

 

Launde Abbey is undoubtedly a very special place for those who get to enjoy its ambience. On the morning following our fraught arrival, it felt right to celebrate its existence and its ministry. The following poem ‘This Time, This Space, This Gift of Grace’ emerged. It is a VERY brief history which could apply to several retreat houses around the UK: all of them are a blessing to most of those who can avail themselves of such opportunities, and whilst ‘balm for the soul’ may sound trite, I can’t think of a better phrase to describe a place…

 

‘where stillness might reign;

letting Moderns abstain

from their feverish rounds                              

and the clamorous sounds

of our time and place.

 

And since the pandemic struck, it feels that such places are even more important than they were before that challenging time.

 

With these thoughts in mind, whilst on a frosty and beautiful walk, I felt quite distressed to see just how weather has ravaged some parts of this lovely building. It did not need an expert to realise that stone window frames alone will soon need large sums of money to make them safe and weatherproof. As a former fundraiser, I began to speculate… I wonder if there are any seriously wealthy philanthropists out there who would adopt such a place and funnel adequate funds into one of them to secure it for, let’s say the next quarter century. She or he would be performing a service that many, many people would benefit from.

If this poem commends itself to you, you might find this link to a poem called Embracing Silence helpful

Spirituality and Science Gallery No 8: Creation Genesis a Sonnet

 

O Christmas Tree with Angel Throng

 O Christmas Tree with Angel Throng.

Our Christmas Tree of 2022

with its ‘throng' of some 70 angels.

I guess many families have their ‘own’ traditions: we certainly have. Perhaps the most delightful is decorating the Christmas Tree with our own 'host of angels’ - after several years, a veritable throng! And it is this year's reappearance of our angelic band from their home in the loft that inspired this children’s song. You can listen to me singing it at (to be added shortly after Christmas: provisionally you could use the basic tune and rhythm of The Virgin Mary Had a Baby Boy)

What makes this collection special for us, is to think of where our angels come from, or from whom, or what they represent. Some are beautifully hand made, some come from friends, some recall a place that has been special to us, and some represent countries where there are injustices far worse than we have ever had to endure - though who knows, here in the UK we seem likely to have an even less-just time in the next few years.  Rather than brood on that, though, I invite you to enjoy this celebratory little carol which can quickly become a singalong!

O Christmas Tree with Angel Throng.

 

(Clap on the last three syllables of each line

 until last line then clap on last two syllables only)

 

 

O-O-O-O Christmas tree, with angel throng,

O Christmas tree, with angel throng,

O Christmas tree, with angel throng.

you honour Bethl’em’s angels.

 

Yo----ur angels sing out ‘Peace on Earth!’

Your angels sing out ‘Peace on Earth!’

Your angels sing out ‘Peace on Earth!’

Along with Bethl’em’s angels.

 

Yo----ur angels sing out ‘truth and love!’

Your angels sing out ‘truth and love!’

Your angels sing out ‘truth and love!,

Along with Bethl’em’s angels.

 

Yo----ur angels sing out ‘Mercy ‘n’ grace!’

Your angels sing out ‘Mercy ‘n’ grace!’

Your angels sing out ‘Mercy ‘n’ grace!’

Along with Bethl’em’s angels.

 

Yo----ur angels sing out ‘Come Lord come!’

Your angels sing out ‘Come Lord come!’

Your angels sing out ‘Come Lord come!’

Along with Bethl’em’s angels.

 

So O O O give your tree, an angel throng,

So give your tree, an angel throng,

So give your tree, an angel throng,

And hark to Bethl’em’s angels.

 

 

 

     

Dear Lord, I Thank You for The Sun (& other clean energy sources)

 Dear Lord, I thank you for the sun

Tune: Fulda (We Have a Gospel to Proclaim ) or many LM tunes

 

Dear Lord, I thank you for the sun

with its amazing energy,

which we can harvest every day

and turn to power reliably.

 

Dear Lord, I thank you for the winds,

unseen as they turn turbine sails

to generate their gusty streams

of pristine power at mighty scale.

 

Dear Lord, I thank you for the ways

that water-power is utilised,

and pray that soon we’ll tame the tides

for widespread use – a precious prize.

 

Dear Lord, please guide those who invest,

to understand; NOW is the hour

for boosting flows of finance to

those who commit to greener power.

Find more Care of the Planet poems, songs and hymns at https://crossandcosmos.blogspot.com/p/care-of-planet-collection.html

 

The Shepherd’s Message (I Remember, Oh How I Remember)

Picture credit craftville.com

As the shepherds return to the hills...

The Shepherds’ Message 

I remember, oh how I remember,

that night and the following day: 

the angels, the singing, the scurrying

and the sweet smell of clean bedding-hay.

A baby with parents bewildered

at our finding the byre where they’d lodged.

Such a very strange place for Messiah 

to be born, for the purpose of God.

 

When we left as the new day was breaking 

there were people who work at first light,

and we realised we should not keep secret 

the wonders we’d witnessed that night.

So we, who are skilful in silence, 

to detect sounds of lion, wolf or thief, 

found our tongues running wild with our message,

of a child bringing goodwill and peace.

 

By the time we got back to the hillside,

we'd been stopped any number of times,

for the story had travelled like wildfire, 

even faster than tales about crimes! 

For some it was just as the prophets

had foretold - of God coming to earth: 

to others a nonsense - but useful 

to gossip and boost their self-worth

 

It was strange how a group of mere shepherds,

 ‘outsiders’ in ordinary times,

became sought after, visited, talked-of,

for our witness of Yahweh’s sublime

way of breaking the news of Messiah 

throughout Bethlem's valleys and hills.

In no time it was voiced in Jerusalem,

stirring hearts, both for good and for ill.

 

Trevor Thorn © 2021 

Carol of The Good News

Picture credit

 faithofourfathersfaith.blogspot.com

I suspect there are many, who like me, delight in those moments when a familiar Bible passage gives rise to an unexpected train of thought. This happened just a few days ago when meeting an Advent invitation to our congregation (Made by my Ordained wife) to read the 24 chapters of Luke through the first 24 days of December. I had scarcely started when the words of Luke 2 17-18 gave me an idea …

¹⁷When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; ¹⁸and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 

 

This led to thoughts about oral story-telling and the thought-provoking idea that God’s plan meant the Shepherds, almost certainly outcasts from respectable society, were the first evangelists. So this carol celebrates the earliest dispersal of the news of Jesus’ birth throughout the locality of Bethlehem. 

 

The Carol of The Good News (Luke 2 17-18)

Can be sung to any 87.87 tune (suggested by author - LOVE DIVINE)

 

Gather round me all you people,

I’ve a wondrous tale to tell;

heard it from my trusted cousins,

told by shepherds round a well.

 

It was just a few days since, those

shepherds watching flocks by night

on the hills surrounding Bethl’em, 

Saw a startling, dazzling light. 

 

There were angels, calling, singing

urging them ‘Go into town,

where a new-born in a manger

is The promised Holy One’.

 

So, let’s tell this story widely,

prophecies attest its truth.

Come! Make every hill and valley

ring with joy at our glad news.

 

December 2021.

More carols, Christmas songs and activities for All Age services can be found HERE

On Hobthrush Island (off Lindisfarne)

One of the joys of producing occasional reflections is that they can remind one graphically of special moments in special places. And being able to share these on a blog, so the interest of others might be aroused, feels an especial privilege in this electronic age. This musing relates to our recent visit to Lindisfarne where we experienced a range of weather in a two week holiday - which itself made me think of how an experience of 1400 years ago would compare with  our soft and hugely privileged living style. Hobthrush Island was where St Cuthbert retreated from the comparative noise of the Priory!

From Hobthrush Island

On the skyline from left to right

Parish church of St Mary’s, The Medieval Priory,

The Heugh and modern observation tower. 

closed at the time of writing - for Coronavirus protection)

On Hobthrush Island (off Lindisfarne)

 

These are precious moments.

We sit in warm sun

On a tiny islet

Which once bore the imprint of the feet of a saint.

 

For us, this is a brief, comforting and comfortable experience.

But for him, the changeabilty of the weather,

would have brought times of joy, or of testing hardship

either as the sun bestowed its generous warmth, 

or as wild rain, excruciating hail and bitter winds savaged

him and his exposed rocky terrain.

No place to dry a sodden habit.

 

Seals, used to the rhythms of the tides,

would bear witness to the worshipping patterns

of this God-loving man.

And save when those creatures of God

raised their own voices in praise,

or the roar of the ocean

vied with other elemental forces,

all would be enfolded in exquisite silence

as it is even today when the tide is high.

 

A beautiful gift from the same God

whom he, we 

and the sonorous seals,

praise and adore.

This post is part of  ‘My Lindisfarne Collection’, the rest of which which can be found HERE

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

Spirituality and Science Gallery No 8

 

Cosmic Winds

 

The wind blows,

trees tremble before its blast.

The wind abates,

earth settles into exquisite silence.

 

Stellar winds flare and gust,

turbulent

beyond our comprehension,

then in unpredictable moments

quiesce;

far flung corners

of the universe rest.

 

The Spirit of God moves,

stirs, strengthens, comforts:

God's friends and others,

oft unexpectedly,

feel that breath

Other poems in the Cross and Cosmos, Spirituality and Science Gallery can be found HERE

Lord Jesus Christ, Whose Miracles.

Creation window at 
St Oswalds, Durham.

A widow full of miracles

Lord Jesus Christ, Whose Miracles.

Suggested Tune: Sussex Carol 88 88 88

(On Christmas Night all Christians Sing) 

Lord Jesus Christ, whose miracles

break loose from nature’s normal bounds,

help us proclaim the mystery

of how your mighty love surrounds

the suffering people you embrace,

and heal with your amazing grace.

Lord Jesus Christ, transfigured one

your radiance filled the mountain height;

and showed your specially chosen three,

the prophets called from realms of light:

come thrill us by this mystery                          

which broke the bonds of history.

Lord Jesus Christ, when crucified,

and lowered from that brutal cross,

there was no doubt that you had died,

your friends deep-pierced by grievous loss.

Then in three days you burst the grave,

great miracle by which we're saved.

Lord Jesus Christ, dear risen one,

ascending to your glorious throne,

you left all earthly boundaries,

laying aside our flesh and bone.            

O help us now to worship you 

for every frontier you break through.

Inspired by Psalm 150 and re-imagined for the Second Space Age

Moth Nebula - (Acrylic: imagined): Gold of

the cosmic background to represent

the sovereignty of our Creator God.

Praise God in his holiness;

Praise him in heaven, his glorious dwelling-place

Praise him from the unknown depths of stars, moons and planets; and from the soaring wonders of the vastness of space.

Praise him for the marvellous gift of matter; and for his extravagant love for all that lives.

Let great aquatic creatures and enormous land-bound mammals, miniscule animals, insects and microscopic cells, praise the Lord.

Let forms of life wholly beyond human comprehension, praise the Lord.

For the neural pathways that birth our imaginations and give rise to all our understandings, give thanks and praise.

Let everything that exists, Praise the Lord.

No better reason for posting this other than it is ‘A new song, to The Lord’ (Psalm 33 v3: Ps 96 v1: Ps 98 v1: Ps 149 v1: Isaiah 42 v10 among other invitations to sing a new song).

Other psalms and Bible passages re-imagined for the twenty-first century can be found as under
Psalm 8 verses 1 and 2 reimagined for C21
Psalm 24 re-imagined for C21
Psalm 93 reimagined for C21
Job 38 verse 4 ff

8 Years old - A day of celebration

This is a celebratory post because last weekend was the eighth anniversary of the first entry on this blog. So this is an opportunity to say ‘Thank you' to all of you who call up The Cross and The Cosmos from time to time. I very much hope that you find both thought provoking and helpful material here. And from time to time some fun with which to engage children - hence the balloon image!

As this is a celebration, I thought it would be good to post a shortened version of my song ’This is a Day of Celebration’. The full version can be found HERE

This is a Day of Celebration

General Chorus (to start)

This is a day of celebration,

This is a day for shouts of praise,

This is a day of jubilation,

Jesus, your Name we raise

Jesus, the Name above all others,

Jesus the name that brings release,

Jesus, our Saviour, our Messiah,

Jesus the Prince of Peace.

Chorus

This is a day of exultation,

This is a day of Jubilee,

This is a day to tell all nations

Jesus will set you free.
Chorus

First Day of the Week - A story for Palm Sunday

Crown of Thorns - cosmic storm

The concept of building an imaginary story or meditation from a time of reflection on a Bible passage is one I feel drawn to from time to time. This one imagines the experience of a citizen of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. The title ‘First Day’ derives from the Hebrew practice of naming their days by numbers for each day of the week.

The poem might also help to think a little about why an estactic crowd shouting ‘Hosanna’ on Sunday turned to ‘Crucify’ just five days later.

First Day of The Week

It was the strangest of First Days

I had ever known.

In the Temple, on the Sabbath,

the day before,

there had been whispers,

lots of rumours

that the long awaited Messiah

was coming.

The strongest and strangest rumour

was that it was Jesus,

carpenter-turned-Rabbi from Nazareth.

That felt improbable on both counts – 

a carpenter – from Nazareth?

But it was being said he had healed people

and given food to huge crowds up in Galilee.

He was, they said,

coming with a band of followers,

both men and women.

Coming from Bethany, they said.

So there I was,

waiting by the City gate

in the midst of an expectant, excited crowd.

If this was the moment 

The accursed Romans were to be swept away

I wanted to be part of it.

I had paused at the door before leaving

wondering about taking a dagger.

But if it all went wrong

and I was found by a soldier with a dagger;

that would mean prison at best

or more likely, crucifixion.

So I contented myself with the stout stick

I use when walking distances.

Heavy enough to break a sword arm

or do serious damage to a Roman skull,

and easy to toss away if pursued.

When I arrived, I noticed 

There were a lot of similar ‘walking sticks’ around;

the soldiers eyed them

and put hands meaningfully 

on vicious swords.

We waited.

People were growing restless,

then from the hill below came a

bubbling excited sound 

with the word ‘Hosanna’ being often repeated.

It grew louder,

and I stood on a boulder

to see what was happening.

That was a noisy, noisy group,

surrounding a man

who was obviously their Leader –

head high above the rest.

It was difficult to see

how he was that height – 

not high enough to be on a horse

which would have been logical

if he was going to lead a coup.

So perhaps on a portable platform,

maybe incorporating a throne:

that would make sense.

When they got closer, 

I could hear more of the chanting

‘Blessed is he who is coming

in the name of the Lord;

Hosanna, Hosanna’.

The crowd around the gate

were getting more and more excited

and taking up the cry

‘Hosanna, Hosanna’

and I admit I found myself shouting too -

even despite the presence 

of those accursed Roman soldiers.

It became more difficult to see,

Not easier!

People jumping up to get a view

and barging in front of me.

The shouting got louder and louder

and the soldiers grew more and more tense

as did the occasional Temple priest I saw

trying to look inconspicuous for once.

But me. I was adding my voice

To those of the hundreds – 

or was it thousands of restless,

jubilant people who clearly thought

they had found the Messiah.

Then the procession had to narrow

To get through the gate

so I could gradually see

some throwing coats down for him

with others tearing down palm branches

like a carpet.

Then suddenly I could see the Leader,

The one 

who was going to make Israel great again.

Hosanna!

Then, then, 

I could hardly believe my eyes.

This man, this great Leader,

This Messiah

Was riding 

A donkey!

A donkey, I ask you

What was that all about?

It stopped my ‘Hosannas’ dead in their tracks.

This is NOT someone 

who is about to send the Romans packing!

Oh! The disappointment of it!

Oh! The anti climax – the let-down.

How could I have been so beguiled?

I’m so angry with myself,

With the crowd-

But most of all with HIM.

HIM on a donkey – a donkey – a donkey

That’s what he has made of me.

I hate him

Even if others are going along with him:

I can’t imagine why.

I got away just as soon as I could.

If this helped to think about the change from ‘Hosanna’ to ‘Crucify’, you might also like to look at A Temple Trader’s Rant where there is a further link to ‘A Temple Trader’s Glee'