Holiness and a Good Death

Holiness and a Good Death
Holy Week and Easter 2025
We call this week holy
and the day of his death good.
How did he live that holiness
knowing trauma and death
were closing in on him?
Though a victim of inhuman cruelty,
how did he die revealing
the goodness and love of God
and the potential of humanity?

Now in my seventies,
I look to him in this Holy Week,
hoping to learn how to live
my last days or decades
with some approach to holiness,
some sense of fulfilled purpose,
some hope of a good death.

Is holiness late in life
about connecting courageously
with the meaning and expression
of our lives and God’s love?
Is it also about connecting
with the whole creation
suffused with Spirit,
with stones that cry out
in celebration and grief,
with bread and wine consecrated
to be shared communion
in nurturing and suffering?

Reflecting on how he lived his last week,
I see affirmation accepted
in ironic humility,
lament for a blind society
failing to recognize
either God’s visitation
or the things that make for peace.
I see courageous protest
in enacted cleansing
of rigid acquisitive religion,
challenge in debate:
corruption denounced,
warning given
and justice demanded.

I see a devoted Jew
observing Passover,
drawing his friends together
and deepening traditional meaning
into further symbolism
of self sacrifice and liberation.
I see him underlining
with determined fervour
and hopeful compassion
his years of teaching
about generous love and service.

I see a vulnerable human being
in a garden on a mountain
bent to the supportive ground
in desperate prayer,
trying to accept the necessity
of his suffering and dying.
I see him betrayed,
denied, abandoned
by friends, but still loving,
and forgiving even those
who bring about his death,
not knowing what they are doing.
At the end, I see him speaking
last words of trusting faith:
“Father into your hands
I commend my Spirit.”

I honour his commitment
to revealing God’s presence
in love and forgiveness
even as a victim of human atrocity.
Let Holy Week and Good Friday
inspire my attempts
to live well whatever my life span.
When death comes to me,
may I find grace to repeat
his loving transition
to whatever is beyond,
to commend my spirit
to a continuity of love,
so that my death is good
both for me and those with me.
Barbara Messner 16/04/2025

Song for Holy Week

Song for Holy Week (to be sung to Kingsfold, the tune of “I heard the voice of Jesus say” Together in Song 585)
1. Their cheering had a hollow sound
that only he could hear.
Their expectation of a king
fell grating on his ear.
They thought that God’s Anointed One
would claim the throne to save.
The woman who anointed him
prepared him for the grave.

2. His challenge to all mis-used power
was not with sword but word.
The Spirit of the living God
ensures that word is heard
beyond one place and one brief time
now to all lands and years.
The faithful souls of every race
still mourn his death in tears.

3. Then at the dawn of Easter Day
we see his life arise
and breathe his Spirit into those
who wait for Love’s surprise.
So every year this Holy Week
has insights to explore.
Christ risen from the dead still shows
his death’s an open door.
Barbara Messner 11/04/2025

The House was Filled with the Fragrance

The House was Filled with the Fragrance
Lent 5; John 12:1-11
Whether or not he robs the common purse,
his carping words steal beauty from her choice,
and try to rob her of her hard won place
at Jesus’ feet, although her act gives voice
to gratitude for brother’s life restored
and grief prophetic of their teacher’s death.
The ones who come to see him chanting “Lord!”
are risking precious lives with every breath.
Now surely those he trusts must understand
the powers that be will fear this growing crowd!
Her love must give him all she has at hand;
she does not care what men think is allowed.
Her fragrance spreads and women in our day
are strengthened by what they hear Jesus say.
Barbara Messner 2/04/2025

The Prodigal Daughter

The Prodigal Daughter
Lent 4; Luke 15:11-32
A young woman went off to a faraway land
at a risk-taking age, with the gifts she had claimed.
There she more or less squandered the hopes she had dreamed,
for a love that her church-going lessons had blamed.

How she hungered, and lived for the scraps that he threw,
with her singer’s throat blocked by the tears she had shed,
and her letters back home didn’t mention the blight
of her unwise devotion to one who was wed.

Surely those who were waiting would meet her with blame
and the church of her childhood would set her apart.
When at last she returned and dared speak of her pain,
she was welcomed, forgiven and healed in her heart.

Sometime later she tested the call that she heard
and kept telling this story, determined to learn
whether those who would judge might accept her with grace,
knowing God pours out love on the lost who return.
Barbara Messner 26/03/2025

Unless You Repent

Unless You Repent
Lent 3; Luke 13:1-9
The victims of chance or a tyrant’s decree
did not die condemned for some personal sin,
but Jesus spoke harshly to let people see
society poised on the brink could fall in.
The axe that is laid at the roots of our tree
is nuclear war that no nation could win,
abuse of Earth’s climate and ecology,
seas swimming in plastic, disordered within.
We long for reprieve, like the tree in the tale,
with gardeners ready to tend and restore.
Has hope for the future been put up for sale
by power hungry leaders still grasping for more?
The prophets cry out: “Why is urgent work left?
Repent or leave Earth and our children bereft!”
Barbara Messner 21/03/2025

Lament for our Cities

Lament for Our Cities
Lent 2; Luke 13; 31-35
Weep for industrialized cities
where the sky is dirty
and the earth cemented,
where the waters are polluted
and the churches abandoned.
How often has the Child of the Creator
sought to restore the Earth,
and guide the people to healing
in the clean flow of the Spirit,
but we were not willing.

Wail for commercialized cities,
where the owners live for profits
and scoff at living prophets,
where the poor are left homeless,
or crowded into tenements.
How often has the Human One
longed to convince the privileged
to restore to the disadvantaged
a fair share in life’s necessities,
but we were not willing.

Grieve for materialistic cities
where Babel towers block the sun,
competing for symbolic heights
of commercial aggrandizement
and blighting humble enterprise.
How often has the Crucified Christ
been entombed in those basements,
waiting for the ones with the keys
to unlock hope and opportunity,
but we were not willing.

Lament for self-harming cities,
where depression is a pandemic
and rubbish and graffiti accumulate,
where crowds in tense weariness
cannot notice any for the many.
How often has the Risen Christ
desired to gather your children
together as a hen gathers
her brood under her wings
but we were not willing.
Barbara Messner 9/03/2025

Temptations in the Wilderness

Temptations in the Wilderness
Lent 1; Luke 4:1-15
I have walked that wilderness,
breathed its gritty, brazen air.
Seems our culture lodges there!
Voices work on our distress,
tempting us to be secure –
“Wealth can happiness ensure!”

Spirit dreams evaporate!
Bread is conjured out of stones,
our reward as worker drones.
“You can master petty fate!
Power will help you keep your nerve!
Just don’t question who you serve!”

“Then if you aspire to fame,
risky stunts you can’t refuse.
Time them well to make the news!
Soon you’ll be a household name,
guest star on a TV show.
It’s not what but who you know.”

He who blocked that tempting voice
with God’s word would dare the cross.
While we hide from pain of loss,
his is the transforming choice.
Let us in that wasteland find
Word of God for minds half-blind.
Barbara Messner 1/03/2022

The Churches of St. Moses, St. Elijah and St. Jesus on the Mountain

The Churches of St. Moses, St. Elijah and St. Jesus on the Mountain
Last Sunday after Epiphany – Transfiguration; Luke 9:28-36
It is upon the mountaintop that light
transfigures features that we thought we knew,
and we are dazzled seeing what’s beyond
as past and future balance on that peak,
and in that moment God and prophets speak.

We vow that vision will remain in sight,
and yet the words to compass it are few.
We hope we might from looming loss abscond;
he leads us down to failure on the plain.
Would buildings draw us to those heights again?

If churches stood, would light return as bright?
Would vision still be shared and counted true?
When pilgrims journeyed there, would they feel conned
if Moses and Elijah were stained glass,
no voice-over from God though clouds still pass?

We need to know we have no copyright
on revelation, or on life made new.
The mountain top can stir us to respond
if he has challenged us to make the climb,
but building walls can’t hold us in that time.
Barbara Messner 22/02/2022

Loving my Enemy

Loving my Enemy
Epiphany 7; Luke 6:27-38
To call that man my enemy
would seem too strong a claim,
yet still I feel unloving,
remembering his name.

A bully in the workplace
the three of us agreed.
It’s many years behind me,
and still I am not freed.

One dived into a bottle,
one left for pastures green.
I plodded on, diminished,
with wounds that felt unclean.

I never learnt to stand there
and turn the other cheek,
though fight and flight had failed me,
and tears and fears seemed weak.

So Jesus, though your teaching
could truly set me free,
and keep the world from warfare,
how hard it seems to be!

I try to understand him,
his hidden hurt and strain.
I see the need for loving,
but anger clings to pain.

The secret of forgiveness –
“They know not what they do!” –
is born of such deep loving
it can make all things new.

I pray to want renewal:
undo this knot within,
so I look back unflinching,
and let your love flow in.
Barbara Messner 15/02/2022

Blessings and Woes

Blessings and Woes
Epiphany 6; Luke 6:17-26
Confront us with the mystery
that blessing graces misery
while fortune loads the dice for woe!
Our poverty can strip away
the gilded idols of our day,
while wealth can stifle what might grow.

Our hunger seeks out nourishment
and hungry souls will be content
with nothing short of Spirit source,
but bellies filled beyond excess
find illness shows them more is less,
and vacant souls have no recourse.

Our grieving can unveil the heart,
and though we painfully depart,
our journey opens us to joy,
while those who mock and laugh and play
will blunder on their merry way
to face the depths that can destroy.

There’s blessing in rejection too:
the hateful words they hurl at you
bounce off the Word that God reveals,
while those who pay the price of fame
risk losing their God-given name,
seduced by flattering appeals.
Barbara Messner 8/02/2022

I have just finished 12 months as locum in the Parish of Belair, a fulfilling experience but I need time out for a bit. Poems for the next few weeks will probably be old ones, unless the muse has other ideas.