Barb, poet priest

The Messianic Secret

This poem is on my home page, because it speaks of the climate in which I write, and the questions I explore through writing: “Who are you? and “Who am I?”

The Messianic Secret
Pentecost 13; Matthew 16:13-20
“Now who do people say I am?”
What if he asked that in this space?
I might reply with darkened face:
“There’s many here don’t give a damn.
Your name’s mis-used by those who swear.
Some might remember half a rhyme
of carols sung at Christmas time,
or cross stripped bare in neon glare.”

But if he asked me what I say,
I might reply: “You are the heart
and breath of loving and of art,
the source of justice and of play,
the guide to what I’m meant to be,
the mid-wife of my death and birth,
the one whose coming transforms earth,
the cosmic wisdom plain to see.

So “Who are you?” and “Who am I?”
are secrets hidden in the light. 
The search for meaning gives us sight,
the gift of a discerning eye,
and those who wonder, and are drawn
to life abundant and to love,
can hear the call of spirit dove
and in the dark embrace the dawn.

Barbara Messner 20 August 2020

A Daughter Tormented by a Demon

A Daughter Tormented by a Demon
Pentecost 12; Matthew 15:21-28
The Canaanite mother kept shouting:
	“Mercy for my daughter!”
The disciples came and urged Jesus:
	“Send her away!”
Longing for peace, he did not answer her,
	then was dismissive.
Undaunted in faith, she answered back.
	Healing happened.

The demons who torment
	our daughters and sons
are trolls on social media,
	bullies and abusers
in schools and on phones,
peer groups sodden
with drugs, sex and booze,
	a jaded society
entertained by violence,
	media driven hype
idolizing winners and berating losers,
	parents too busy
to notice or shout out.

No doubt there are women seeking Jesus,
	begging for mercy.
Does he stay silent, discourage them
	with ethnic or gender disparity?
Is salvation exclusive, reserved
	for those at the altar?
Are healing powers weakened
	when so few believe?

Let the women and the dogs
	who love the children,
demand help loudly,
	challenging rejection,
claiming crumbs from his table
	and the touch of healing,
breaking into his breakdown
	to give and take wholeness.

	Barbara Messner 16/08/2023

A Sea Shanty

A Sea Shanty
Pentecost 11; Matthew 14:22-36

Now each wave surges high
and the wind rages by
and the boat feels as frail as a twig!
Skill and courage unwind
as the shore slips behind
and the storm clouds loom up wild and big.

So now where is the one
who can brighten the sun
and inspire us to find strength within?
He took time out to pray
and sent us on our way,
and our day has turned darker than sin.

Will he walk on the waves
to save us from our graves -
surely we are worth more than mere prayer?
Or perhaps he might say
that if we thought to pray
then his presence would steady us there.

We’d get out of the boat,
let our feet learn to float,
and we’d walk as though cushioned on air.
Look to him and all’s well,
but our fear of the swell
sets us wallowing deep in despair.

He gives strength to our arm,
and awareness of calm,
then we find ourselves safe on the deck,
with the sails set to soar,
‘til we’re safely ashore
having weathered another near wreck.
      Barbara Messner August 2020

Click to access a-sea-shanty.pdf

A Blessing and a Wounding

A Blessing and a Wounding
Pentecost 10; Genesis 32:22-31
At times we come to crossings
as Jacob did at Jabbok.
Our people and possessions
go on across the waters –
incentive and appeasement
to clear a path to follow.

Yet we remain, in turmoil,
as day gives way to nightfall.
Do past transgressions hold us,
or future risks unnerve us,
or have we lost the meaning 
of who we are or might be?

There in the dark we wrestle
with self or something other,
no victory to either.
We’re out of joint and hurting,
but still despite the begging
“Let go, for day is breaking”,
we cling on for a blessing.

And so as light is dawning,
we claim another naming,
and say that we have striven
with God, and were prevailing,
and yet the one who held us
in struggle or embracing
has slipped away still nameless –
our claiming is our failing.
    Barbara Messner July 2020

So They Kept the Matter to Themselves

So They Kept the Matter to Themselves 
Transfiguration; Mark 9:2-10
I have been on those heights
	everything radiant
	pregnant with presence
	clouds trailing glory
while near me I heard 
words of listening and love

Dreamed I worshipped you there
	poised at the crux of
	prophecy law or
	future and past all
around I perceived 
our reality stretch

Peak experience fades
	when we’re descending
	vision or dreaming
	awkward to tell when
below in the valley
our failure awaits

But I know you are there
	braced for betrayal
	violence denial
	face set like flint
you walk with us still
to the cross and beyond
	Barbara Messner 2/08/2023

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