Healing the Blind Mark 10:46-52, Pentecost 22 Look round and in for signs of loss of sight unrecognized by those left in the dark, maybe because they think they’re always right. Their inner blindness leaves no outer mark. They cannot see how racial hatred harms, or what life might be like for refugees. Their minds are blank to climate change alarms, or to the news that homeless sleepers freeze. Blind beggar by the road had inner sight, and cried for mercy to the one who hears. Some told him to be silent in his plight, but he yelled loudly at their deafened ears. “My teacher, let me see again,” he cried, and, sight restored, walked on at Jesus’ side.
Word from a Whirlwind
Word from a Whirlwind God’s Answer to Job (Job 38—41) Why ask why? My realm’s too wild and wide, this cosmos too diverse, immense and free to bend its complex meaning to reward or punish what a creature strives to be. Gird up your loins, you mortal! Answer me! How dare you with your God contend, and plead your innocence to prove your Maker’s guilt? Mine is the form and void; mine, steed and weed, monsters and microbes, star system and lair. Chaos to cosmos – can you walk that path? Predator, prey – apportion both their share? I give and in the time of trial take back. By Satan’s claim or chance you face the rift. Confront the whirlwind. Presence is my gift. Barbara Messner circa 2000
Sonnet for St. Francis
Sonnet for St. Francis Though Francis bore the marks of Jesus’ pain, he walked the roads in simple joy and danced. He cast aside the robes of merchant gain, embracing poverty as life enhanced. A fearsome wolf at his request grew tame – for animal and town a happy end. He preached to birds and even dared to claim that sun and moon were kin, and death a friend. The Spirit urged him to rebuild the church: both stones and preaching seemed a burden slight, with soul and body yoked in eager search, his life a guiding fire, a beacon bright. The centuries have not eclipsed the sight of this man, naked, singing dawn alight.
Making Space for the God of the Cosmos
Making Space for the God of the Cosmos
For the patronal festival at St. Michael and All Angels, Bridgewater SA
What does it take to see the stars?
Our gaze is settled on the ground.
Those minute pinpoints in the night
are blazing suns immensely far
beyond us, yet our city lights
have dimmed them, and we’re less aware.
When we were young, we’d go outside
to gaze beyond ourselves in awe,
and search to find the Southern Cross
as though to anchor us in space
amidst that wheeling panoply
of alien suns and worlds and lives.
Now though the internet provides
an image of a nebula
like angels spreading out their wings,
somehow we can’t accept there might
be angels like a radiant cloud
of awesome energy and light.
In earlier times, the heavens were ours,
a roof for Earth, and further on
and up, we’d place the realm of God
to which we might aspire through Christ,
when earthly life was laid aside
and angels brought us gently home.
But in this cosmos we are small,
and up and down are all around,
and God’s creating so immense
in light and energy and fire
that somehow interact to spark
the miracles of diverse life.
Where then are we, but specks of dust
upon a small and fragile rock
that whirls around a minor sun?
Is heaven all around us now,
and God both present and beyond,
more awesome than we ever dreamed?
On every world where beings live
the God of being surely is,
and comes as Christ to share that life,
that death, and hope of life beyond.
Do they like us refuse to look
beyond the limits of their space?
Are we the blindest of the blind,
who gaze on screens and call that life,
domesticating mystery
until we think we’re only dust?
Do angels try to draw our eyes
out to the many worlds beyond
where light flows on at constant speed,
and gravity will always draw
all bodies to relationship,
and mass to energy transforms?
Are these all forms of truth and love
and Spirit, energy from God?
The resurrected Christ it seems
still bore the stamp of earthly life
beyond the limits of space/time.
His flesh and spirit shifted place
with both still present but transformed,
ascending into cosmic Christ.
When Michael threw the fallen ones
upon the earth, our souls were drawn
to idolize the physical.
So angel messengers descend
and lift our spirits. Then God’s Word
will find a space in us for birth.
Barbara Messner September 2016
For or Against
For or Against Pentecost 18, Mark 9:38-50 Seems like the ones who were closest to him wanted to claim rights to his name. Keep him exclusive to their chosen few: came to complain, sought to restrain someone unlicensed who heals in his name: not been approved should be removed. Maverick exorcist they wanted stopped! Jesus said, “No! Let his work flow! Power in my name is connected to me, for not against. Don’t keep me fenced! Acts of compassion all represent God, bringing reward. No need to hoard!” “Those who abuse any little one’s trust – better to be thrown in the sea; better to choose to be maimed, lame or blind: salt that tastes bland tossed on the sand.” Do not attempt to raise walls that divide! Grace is unchecked, boxes are wrecked. Labels are useless and barriers breached. Jesus the Word makes himself heard in every language and through every faith. Love is the test God applies best. Think you know who should be in and who’s out? All who are for come through Christ’s door.
Last of All and Servant of All
Last of All and Servant of All Pentecost 17, Mark 9:30-37 He taught them that the Son of Man would be betrayed by human hand. It seems he might have saved his breath: they could not bear his talk of death; they would not ask or understand. Instead they argued on the way, competing to be seen as great. They might have known that he would ask, and strip away each ego mask to leave them all in humbled state. “Such hopes of greatness are a farce! God’s choice of first will be the last, content to serve with simple grace, not battling for some higher place. The time for posturing has past.” He called a little child to show the open face of one not grown to seek ambition’s fleeting prize, or study to be worldly wise. He held the child as if his own. “A welcome shown to such a one will also welcome God’s own Son, the Suffering Servant sent to be the promise of a world set free, where greed and power will come undone.”
Lose and Find
Lose and Find (Song Lyrics to the Welsh tune Ar hyd y nos: All through the night) Pentecost 16, Proverbs 1:20-33, Mark 8:27-38) 1. Lose the life that makes you smaller, scrambling for gain. Find the life that stretches taller, learning from pain. Take your cross and pray to bear it: God will find a way to share it. Life renews and you will dare it, rising again. 2. Lose the cramping expectations: find who you are. Lose your self-blame desolations: lower the bar. There’s no need to climb the ladder; lonely heights can make you sadder. Walk a path that’s humbler, gladder - no spite can mar. 3. Lose your worldly aspiration judged by success. Find the source of inspiration doubt can’t repress. Wisdom waits when failures shake us – waits to see if loss will wake us, offers insights to re-make us more whole, not less.
From Anxiety to Wisdom
From Anxiety to Wisdom Pentecost 16, Proverbs 1:20-33; Mark 8:27-38 I have heard them describing this time as an Age of Anxiety. It would take a conversion of soul to become Wisdom’s Century. There are plenty alive who display technological mastery. Do you know of some sages revered for insightful integrity? Yet the manifest perils we face which induce such anxiety on occasions are known to call forth a serene equanimity. Can we find a philosopher’s stone, making gold from base substances? Could it be that we need to accept that as creatures we’re vulnerable, and it’s futile to try to defend or disguise our fragility? So though Jesus knew suffering and death awaited his ministry, Simon Peter refused to accept such a harsh ignominity. Thus already one chosen as rock, and aware of divinity, thinks refusal might somehow avert the Messiah’s dark destiny. It’s no wonder he later says “No!” when accused of relationship! In his fear he can’t come to accept what his courage demands of him: to dispense with his daydreams of power trampling over the enemy. So he had to be broken and weep at the lapse in his faithfulness, and forgiven, surrender to love, face an ultimate helplessness. Peter learnt how to carry his cross when he saw that through tragedy all must walk at the last, even God come to share our humanity. So if weakness accepted might stand with no need to retaliate, and the pain of the cheek that we turn shames the violence of tyranny, then perhaps we find meaning that brings us close to divinity. Our humility grows as we come to the source of self-emptying, who is also the way to fulfil our authentic identity, as we let ourselves grow into truth universal and merciful. Then at last though we suffer and die we emerge into joyfulness, and God’s wisdom is fully revealed, displacing anxiety.
The Syrophoenician Woman
The Syrophoenician Woman Pentecost 15, Mark 7:24-37 Celebrate with me this woman, this bold Syrophoenician woman, facing prejudice and limits, walking out alone in public, daring to accost this stranger who was hiding in seclusion. Those offended sneered and muttered slurs that mocked her race and gender, called her “prostitute”, rejecting such impertinent intrusion. Courtesan perhaps she might be, scholars say now who examine her sophisticated language and the skill of her rebuttal, begging with undaunted purpose for the sake of her own daughter, and the daughter generations held in thrall by unclean spirits – paralyzed by race and gender stereotypes and baseless slander. What to make of one we cherish, Son of God and Son of Mary, choosing images so hurtful, adding insult to rejection? Could he think one race entitled, others fit to be belittled? Was it neediness turned hurtful from the depths of his depletion? Was he pushed beyond his limits by importunate demanding and the bitter strains of conflict? Did he grasp at ethnic branding, human in acculturation, pressured by his incarnation and his aching need for refuge? Some excuse his words as testing power of faith to rise to challenge. Or was this a test of women to reveal their wit and courage and the truth of their potential, once unshackled from supression? We still claim from her responses proof of women’s faith and reason long denied by patriarchy. Were the words of their encounter parable of liberation overturning expectation? “Even dogs eat crumbs from children!” Deft rebuke in humble answer! We are wrong to use her image in a claim we are unworthy! Jesus gave rare affirmation to her intellect and power: “You speak Logos; you bring healing!” She had healed more than her daughter. Women generations after are empowered by her example. Did the Lord himself find healing in enacting new creation?
My Song of Songs
My Song of Songs Pentecost 14, Song of Songs 2:8-13 What if God who loves is also lover and I and every living thing and even rocks and suns are the Beloved and longing and belonging is our song. And what if Eros and “I AM” are one and I-Thou runs deep in every atom and relationship is all there is and the sacred craving to come into relationship is the stuff of body and soul of gravity and magnetism of one dark woman with one shepherd-king of I myself with (my god!) My God. And what if a community struggling for unity and a mystic embracing emptiness and a lover desiring consummation and an ascetic straining for chastity and a people wrestling with covenant and a carpenter facing crucifixion are truly all united in the one metaphor show forth their meanings in the one parable: the Kingdom of Heaven is like this: the knowing that embraces all the singing of a song of love the Song of Songs.
Barb, poet priest 