For all who kindle

Blessed are the fire starters. Search light, held tight, snapped twigs of vulnerability, wisps of dreams to fleeting flames. Ragged flint and steeled courage, twist of palm-worn prism catching spark of starlight. Wildness and the fiery hope of risk. Blessed are the hearth keepers. Pump of bellows, puff of clearing smoke, chop and feed and …

Maundy Thursday. Service.

‘If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash each other’s feet’. In the world of Jesus’ time, washing another person’s feet was not a glamourous task, it was not an important or honourable task, it was not a particularly special or unusual task. It was a job that …

Deacon poem 1 – Water flows

These poems were written in the first few days of lockdown, as I looked back over my time as a deacon, and forward to the prospect of a very different type of Holy Week. It is now Holy Week and I return to them as I reflect upon Jesus’ own ministry in these times. They …

Tomb and womb; these times of waiting

A reflection on Lazarus and the incarnation, for the first week of lockdown. This week the church celebrated the feast of the annunciation;the arrival of the angel to Mary, the shock of good news, the joy, and no doubt the fear, of the woman who said yes to God.  And today we reflect upon Lazarus; with more shock …

Walsingham

I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the one to give you an unbiased account of or reflection on Walsingham. I have avoided going for a number of years now, shed many tears, and half-planned many angry protests. I’ve dreamt of many days when this catholic-called-woman-(nearly)-priest would be home - in England’s centre of …

Madonna Lactans

This was originally published in 2018 on the Ripon College Cuddesdon Arts Blog, a lovely place of sharing and creativity. I’m a. Bit worried it might vanish into the internet ether, so I’m putting it here as well. X 1.What was Dieric Bouts, Madonna mit Kind (ca. 1475) He is eleven days old and we …

A reflection for a feminist lent

If you can, find some time to sit before the two paintings. Breathe deeply for a little while, and turn your attention to the purple one. Allow yourself to enter, feel yourself following the drips of paint.How does it speak to you? Can you sense a loss of self, a slow, but steady dripping away …

Night Watch

What can you teach me of word into flesh, nestling deep into spirit-filled breast, hours that seem to put time to the test - O little one teach me of word into flesh. What can you teach me of fire and flood, night dancing within and darkness above, stories and sorrow now seeped into blood …

A quick poem for Epiphany

I gave you my gold, in the scrunched up daisy petals, and the rocks in the bottom of my pocket.  The silver stretches which scar my skin, this treasure of little curls.  I brought you my frankincense, in the scent of the woods and the baked broken bread. Days of both pine and narcissus.  The …

‘To live their life with them’ – A sermon for epiphany

In my little nativity crib, at home, the magi, the wise men, have just about made it to the little stable, where the shepherds are gathered around, and where the animals nestle down by Mary and Joseph. It’s a strange set up, a nativity crib – a mishmash - the middle of the venn diagram …