Barb, poet priest

Shake Off the Dust

This was written in 2021 for Mark 6:1-6. Feeling a bit overwhelmed this week, I’m repeating it for the identical passage, Matthew 13:54-58, at the end of Sunday’s gospel.

Shake off the Dust 
Pentecost 9; Matthew 13:54-58 Year A 
(also Pentecost 6, Mark 6:1-13, Year B)
The locals doubted Jesus could be wise:
he grew to manhood right before their eyes,
a carpenter whose kin they thought they knew.
His gift was hampered, though he healed a few.
Belief, it seems, enables Spirit power,
and sceptics flourish in this day and hour,
pursuing facts and leaving wisdom out.
The chance to heal is undermined by doubt.
So those of us who teach the ways of soul
in hopes the world might turn and be made whole
are stripped of what sustains us on the road,
while lack of welcome multiplies our load.
We see so many signs of lack of trust,
it’s hard to leave behind the clogging dust.
	Barbara Messner 30/06/2021

Encompass Us

Encompass Us
Pentecost 8; Psalm 139, Matthew 13: 24-43
Search me, O God, and know my heart,
my words and path discern.
Though I might try to hide apart,
you find me when I turn.

Confronting to be searched and known,
but comforting as well.
A knowing love transforms its own;
unknown is lonely hell.

The inner and the outer world
are patched with dark and light.
You know where growth lies dormant, furled –
let warmth bring it to sight.

Let weeds and wheat grow side by side,
for only You can tell
if wheat has spread its claim too wide,
or weeds might make us well.

Mile after mile of same old wheat
might serve our same old selves,
but what of land that we deplete
for supermarket shelves?

A weed is just a random plant
not planned in our designs;
its earning power for us is scant,
but Earth knows what it mines.

Is what we sow in soil or soul
the best for us or Earth?
Creator God can grow us whole,
for Wisdom knows what’s worth.
	Barbara Messner 20/07/23

On Behalf of Random Seed

On Behalf of Random Seed
Pentecost 7; Matthew 13:1-9. 18-23
Did Jesus limit how one hears,
although he spoke to those with ears?
Perhaps his followers explained,
and parables became constrained.

I guess I must appreciate
that Jesus would communicate
with literal-minded sons of law
as well as friends of metaphor.

Although perhaps it seems perverse,
don’t ask me to explain a verse,
but let us share what it might mean,
for truth has facets seldom seen.

A poem scatters less than seed,
and still there’s rocky ground and weed,
but soil prepared and fertilized
may yield so much that I’m surprized.

The parables say many things
if given space to spread their wings.
When seed attracts a hungry bird, 
it might be carried, like the word.

Who knows where wisdom someone drops
may root and spring up, then bear crops?
The fruit seed thrown beside the track
might feed a wanderer come back.
	Barbara Messner 8/07/2023

Welcome and Welcoming

Welcome and welcoming
Matthew 10:40-42

Best welcome gives us space and lets us be.
“Whoever welcomes you so welcomes me,”
said Jesus. From experience he knew
that welcomers of Christians might be few.

So many now mis-read him, mistrust us –
not helped by slogan verses on a bus!
The checkout operators often say
with bright and practised interest: “How’s your day?”

“I wrote a sermon, and I offered prayer
for someone who was dying in Aged Care.”
It’s odd, but conversation after that
grows awkward and soon falls completely flat.

Mind you, to welcome prophets give us pause:
we know that what they say has fire and claws,
and profit motive claims a greater power
than all the warnings of a world gone sour.

And no-one gladly welcomes righteous ones –
too often the self-righteous carry guns.
We welcome strangers hoping to fill space
on lists of those who might maintain our place.

So welcoming and welcome need some work,
and feeling right at home is not a perk
that Jesus offered freely to his band
to keep them well contented and at hand.

Perhaps our welcoming might turn at first
to “little ones” who live with fear and thirst.
Perhaps we’d find ourselves most welcome there
with cups of water shared in mutual care.
	Barbara Messner 25 June 2020

More Value Than Many Sparrows?

More Value than Many Sparrows?
Pentecost 4; Matthew 10:29-31

But why would God count humans of more value
than one expiring two a penny sparrow?
It’s we who price resources of our earth
convinced that human profit has more worth
than all the fragile beauties freely given
and meant to draw us deeper into heaven
where we are more aware, respectful, kind,
and leave our greedy ego selves behind.
Because our self-importance tends to soar,
did Jesus mock our constant need for more,
and question whether value has degree
when God finds precious both the bird and me,
and counts our hairs or feathers just the same,
cares when we fall and calls us both by name.
	Barbara Messner 18 June 2020

Why Did Sarah Laugh?

Why Did Sarah Laugh?
Pentecost 3; Genesis 18:1-15
Why did Sarah laugh,
listening in the tent,
not out with the guests,
though she’d made them cakes,
quickly, as he said?

“She will have a son!”
Abraham was told,
standing by the three,
offering the food
others had prepared.

Menopause had passed –
childless she remained;
Ishmael, Hagar’s child:
Abraham’s first son.
Promises were late!

Why be offered birth
past her use-by date?
Sarah had to laugh,
then deny, for fear
men might think she mocked.

Trust four men to plan
she should have a son!
No-one thought to ask!
Laugh for all the times
she felt set aside.

Her old body faced
risk and stress and pain,
then the constant work
babies tend to claim.
God, she had to laugh!

Faith of patriarch
Scripture has acclaimed.
Sarah’s rueful laugh
sums up years of tears
waiting women shed.
	Barbara Messner 15/06/2023

Winter Clouds

Winter Clouds
When skies are uniformly grey
and drizzle dampens every walk,
my soul shrinks down, half-turned away,
lets inner colour smudge like chalk.

If clouds and sun dance on the heights,
then grey takes form in subtle hues,
and white has brightness that delights,
while gaps of sky show bluest blue.

Then cast-down eyes are drawn to lift.
Majestic mountain peaks of cloud
appear, and then like magic shift
as sunlight rips the dimming shroud.

I gaze and words begin to form
as brightness splashes like a wave.
Though cloud parade might turn to storm,
each lightning flash excites the brave.

I’d rather downpour than those fogs
that hem me round and dull my sight.
Let flooding shift the clogging logs
so stream runs strong and glitters bright.
	Barbara Messner 9/06/23

Say “Follow Me!”

Say Follow Me
Pentecost 2; Matthew 9:9-13
Say “Follow me!” It’s what some try to do,
though few will leave position, power and wealth
as Matthew did, inspired to follow you.
Perhaps his soul was drawn to greater health.
His healing meant he recognized your truth,
reclaimed ideals he’d left upon a shelf,
integrity abandoned in his youth,
respect for others and his better self.
His other name was Levi, ancient clan
of priesthood. As disciple, did he find
that heritage made new? Though once he ran
to lures of Empire, hope remade his mind.
Say “Follow Me!” This world of compromise
may yet turn to your healing, leave the lies.
	Barbara Messner 7/06/2023

This poem was written in 2021 for Mark’s version of the story we have this Sunday in Matthew 9. I am repeating it partly to celebrate that the Anglican Diocese of the Murray where I live has finally decided to accept the ordination of women.

The Healing of Women
Pentecost 2; Matthew 9:18-26 (also Pentecost 5 Year B; Mark 5:21-43)
When Jesus heals, he seeks to make us whole:
he healed the flow of blood the woman bore
for twelve long years, but also healed her soul.
Her shame was lifted, she need hide no more.
Did Jesus feel his power go out to all
those women judged unclean who hide in fear
and dare not state their need or voice their call,
yet let their faith in healing draw them near?
The leader’s daughter, twelve years old, had died
while Jesus listened to that woman’s truth.
Despite the scorn of those who wailed and cried,
he raised the girl to walk into her youth,
and there perhaps to find there’s more to life
than bartered, without choice, as someone’s wife.
	Barbara Messner 15/06/2021