Barb, poet priest

For Nothing Will Be Impossible with God

For Nothing Will Be Impossible with God.
Pentecost 3; Genesis 18:1-15
Those three visitors came in the heat of the day
and old Abraham knew them: one Lord who was three.
“Rest and eat now,” he offered, “then pass on your way.”
So they ate and then promised a blessing to be.

“Where is Sara your wife? She will bear you a son.”
She was past menopause with her longings grown cold,
so she laughed though it hurt. How could age be undone
to let pleasure and birth in due season unfold?

Sara scoffed to herself but those visitors heard.
“Though you laugh at this wonder that we have foretold,
know the Lord who creates with the Spirit and Word
can bring life through your loving although you are old.”

What of us who are old in a church in decline?
Will God ask us to foster the seeds of new birth?
Will we doubt in our doorways, resisting God’s sign,
or dare offer what’s left of our nurturing worth?

After Sara gave birth with great risk and much pain,
the old patriarch thought God required sacrifice.
If our labour is hard, will what’s born be God’s gain,
or will old ways make youth pay the ultimate price?

In our time-honoured worship, the old words prevail
and the poets of now search in vain for a chance,
while our rules and traditions let fresh insights fail.
Will the Three draw us into their life-giving dance?

For the Spirit is willing and blows where it will,
Jesus teaches that mercy transcends ancient laws,
the Creator brings life out of tombs that we fill,
and no walls cause their outflowing loving to pause.
	Barbara Messner 10/06/2026

In Need of a Physician

In Need of a Physician
Pentecost 2; Matthew 9:9-13,18-26
The tax collector Matthew worked for Rome
and for his cut of takings on the side.
Co-opted by the powers that seized his home,
his soul was torn by choices that divide.

His inner conflict and his neighbours’ scorn
became the sickness Jesus sought to heal.
When he said, “Follow!” Matthew rose, new born,
left role and profit to become more real.

We sicken here at tainted use of power,
collaborators who perceive the stain.
So follow him when compromises sour;
at Jesus’ table share his mercy’s pain!

See now how Earth and poor folk bleed for years,
yet faith that dares reach out can bring relief.
If leaders turn to Jesus, urged by tears,
our children might yet live, dispersing grief.
	Barbara Messner 3/06/2026

Pentecost Again

Pentecost Again
Day of Pentecost; Acts 2:1-4
I’m no great fan of wind –
it shakes me loose like autumn leaves
until I feel unnerved, thin skinned,
and something wistful grieves.

Yet blow here, Spirit gale,
break into comfort, shake the walls
that shelter those afraid to fail
who hide when challenge calls.

I’m half afraid of flame –
too often burnt or left with ash;
with hot emotions much the same –
I flare, then quickly crash.

Let Spirit fire alight
upon my head and in my heart,
so words I write and share burn bright
where Spirit fires might start.

Blow wind so flame will flare
and lamps and candles catch the spark.
Who knows what words and art might dare?
Their light disperses dark.

We need to feel the breeze,
to light our campfires on the earth
and gather round in warmth and ease
in hopes of mirth or birth.
	Barbara Messner 18/05/2026

On that Night

On that Night
Easter 7; John 17:1-11
On the night before he died
he prayed for those given to him,
asking for their protection in God’s name, 
so that they may be one
as he and the Father are one.
He prayed that they may have eternal life
which is to know God 
and the one sent by God.

What is the oneness for which Jesus prayed?
Not agreement on dogma and creeds,
or obedient conformity to strictures,
but a caring respect for difference,
which listens attentively to the other,
shows compassion to the victimized,
lives in humility, not self-serving privilege,
values community and relates in love
to living beings and creation,
and to the mutual and outflowing love 
of God, Creator, Human One, Comforter.

What is the knowing that is eternal life?
Not a learned theological dissertation,
or even this poem, groping for meaning,
but an open searching awareness
of self, others and creation,
a sensitivity to sacred experience,
a capacity for awe and wonder,
a humble unknowing before the infinite
and a receptiveness to the Word.

On that night he underlined his teaching
in words, knowing the hour had come
for saying “Farewell!” and “Fare further!”
They would remember these parting words,
but receptiveness is always limited
by culture and agendas of ego,
as is the question of how to respond.

So he showed meaning in action.
He washed their feet in servant ministry –
a lesson in humility not often repeated –
only on Maundy Thursday in congregations
and sometimes by popes and royalty
with carefully chosen recipients.

His other defining ritual
gained more regular participation,
sharing bread and wine,
re-membering in them 
his broken body
and blood poured out.
Again understandings differ,
but there we are united 
with his continuing presence
in us and among us
and in solidarity with suffering humanity.

These actions are ways of knowing
and examples of oneness
with and beyond words.
As we serve another humbly
by listening and caring
and gather at his table
(along with the marginalized ones
he has always welcomed and empowered),
we are broken people and holy people,
one with him and knowing him,
living in God’s eternal life.
	Barbara Messner 13/05/2026

Two Sonnets – one old, one new

Altar to an Unknown God
Easter 6; Acts 17:22-31
Perhaps an altar to an unknown god
would not be solid slabs of stone or wood 
that brute force wrestled from the gaping sod
and carved with symbols little understood.
Perhaps some legs of driftwood, bare and white,
would hold a sheath of woven bark and grass,
or panel rescued from a ruined site,
with stubs of candles in discarded glass.
There one like Paul might find the linking word 
to reach these devotees of all things new,
show them their truth, disguised in the absurd;
in the unknown, reveal what’s always true:
Creator who transcends each human shrine,
the Human One whose life is shared like wine.
     Barbara Messner May 2017 (altered 2020)

Lift Up Your Hearts
Ascension Day
A stained-glass window in a church I knew
showed faces gazing up at two bare feet
that dangled from a cloud, as though he flew,
dog-paddling upwards, earthly task complete,
and though I think that heaven’s not up there,
but somehow co-exists with here and now,
perhaps the uplift of the sky and air
might carry him beyond our what and how,
for surely he deserves a gentle flight,
who bore through death the weight of Earth’s despair,
so let him float in clouds that reach the light,
where wind and sunshine shape a buoyant stair,
and if his cloud should darken into rain,
let him be washed with freshness after pain.
	Barbara Messner 6/05/2026

Many Dwelling Places
Easter 5; John 14:1-14
Creator of diversity,
you value all that’s odd and wild;
at home in vast infinity,
you house creation as your child.
Your home has multitudes of rooms
with space most generously to spare
for different ways to be expressed,
and guests to be unique yet share.

Your home is open when I knock:
the fires are burning, beds are made.
The brightness draws me to the door;
inside I find the table laid.
Can I who long for inner space
that seems to shrink at every turn
find room for you, unbounded God?
You give me space, let me discern.

You wait with wounded arms stretched wide
until I see that home is you,
and you can be at home in me
when I know life can be made new,
and see that truth takes many forms
to be at home to different eyes.
Walk through my walls and eat with me,
so I give room to love’s surprise.
Barbara Messner May 2020

This poem is an old one this week because I seem to be focused on outdoor work during this spell of Autumn warmth before it gets cold and wet. Anyway I like this one and nothing new has come to me as yet.

The Trouble with Being the Word

The Trouble with Being the Word
Easter 4; John 10:1-10
Jesus said, “Very truly I tell you,” 
words that mark important meanings.
Then he used a series of metaphors,
“sheepfold”, “gate”, “shepherd”, “sheep” -
figures of speech he wove into a story
that likened him to a shepherd,
a familiar connection in Scripture.
Too many have lost that mine of wisdom
so they don’t understand what he is saying.

The trouble with being the Word
is that even if people will listen,
if they follow and are wanting to hear,
they don’t always understand.
Part of the problem is that truth,
the truth of the Wisdom of God,
doesn’t fit into literal thinking,
the everyday telling of fact.
This man is a travelling teacher –
how can he be a shepherd or a gate,
though he heals and feeds and we follow,
though he gathers us close around him
and opens our minds to fresh insight?

Such truth throws light as we reflect:
we catch glimpses in a glass darkly.
Truth is mirrored in metaphor and story,
reversing our old expectations.
Jesus’ life models universal wisdom,
living well for all even through his death.
He comes to us that we may have life,
a life like his, lived abundantly,
even through suffering and dying.

Many here believe that life’s abundance
can be found in success and prosperity,
while others are thieves and bandits
who steal and kill and destroy
caring only for their own profit.
They can’t afford to accept resurrection -
an idle tale, they say, told by women,
though creation itself bears witness.
	Barbara Messner 23/04/2026

You on the Road to Emmaus

You on the Road to Emmaus
Easter 3; Luke 24:13-35
Sometimes all you can do is
walk away:
away from the crosses on a hill
and a tomb whether empty or not,
away from your failures as followers
and the loss of your hope and purpose,
away from overwhelming emotion,
that sink hole of anger, grief and fear.

At least if there’s two you can
talk away:
talk that justifies your leaving
and motivates returning home;
talk that attracts a fellow traveler,
one who is willing to listen
to your love, your loss, your confusion.

On that journey what you need is
to be heard
and to hear yourself tell your story
in words that grope for understanding.
Then you might be ready for insight
if the traveler speaks of Scripture,
drawing out threads of meaning
that connect with your experience,
the nexus of suffering and glory.

Nearing home you are moved to say:
“Stay with us,
for this day is nearly over.”
Then perhaps if your guest at supper
takes your bread to bless and break it
you will know who it is you welcome,
and what fire in your heart he kindled
as he taught and healed you on the way.
That same hour you find strength to return
with good news for your companions.
Barbara Messner 16/04/2026

Experience of Resurrection

Experience of Resurrection
Easter Day; Matthew 28:1-10
I have not hurried, as day dawned,
feeling earth quake, the tomb undone,
yet I have felt that stone roll back,
tomb become womb in light of sun.

I have not heard the angel say:
“Don’t be afraid, he is not here!”,
yet I can tell that he is raised -
in sacred story he comes near.

There women met him, heard his voice,
reached for his feet, washed with their tears.
Like them, I hear him say: “Don’t fear!”
I go to tell and he appears.

I know what meaning his life gives,
how he transformed my grieving days,
how I have grown beyond my fears,
songs I had lost now ring with praise.

This is my sign of empty tomb:
I am transformed to go and tell.
Sometimes it feels like thorns and nails,
yet through it all he makes me well.
	Barbara Messner 1/04/2026