Old Barns

Ontario winter, and roots in black soil of century past,

white covered, snow laden.

with barn of garnished grey and no-longer virgin knots
or planks, and garish door of crimson.

History, passing, stops to capture moment of

the day, this fleeting year.

Sturdy byre soon t'will be gone, and -

well, shall a grandchild know

or remember?

Close

Sometimes you just get real tired, feel like you're wilting, wonder if you can go on. You can and you will. God is so near. Say the old saints, who know - 'Bidden or not bidden, God is present.'

The love of God comes close

where stands an open door

to let the stranger in,

to mingle rich and poor;

the love of God is here to stay,

embracing those who walk His way.

The peace of God comes close
to those caught in the storm,
forgiving lives of ease,
to ease the lives forlorn;
the peace of God is here to stay,
embracing those who walk His way.


The joy of God comes close
where faith encounters fears,
where heights and depths of life
are found through smiles and tears;
the joy of God is here to stay,
embracing those who walk His way.


The grace of God comes close
to those whose grace is spent,
when hearts are tired or sore
and hope is bruised or bent;
the grace of God is here to stay,
embracing those who walk His way.

- A hymn from the Iona Community, Scotland

Still Works for Me

Celtic Christian Spirituality, a book by Oliver Davies and Fiona Bowe that I picked up during last year's visit to the Iona Community in Scotland, continues to speak to my soul. Such a great wealth of ancient but still vibrant Christian tradition !

From the blurb - 'Here is the book which so many of us have been waiting for. It brings together striking and beautiful passages which have been until now altogether inaccessible. These pages provide a fuller, clearer view of the Celtic vsion of things in all its strange attractiveness.'

Now, I know there is a whole, almost cultic admiration for all things 'celtic' or even pseudo-celtic and I'm certainly not one to be easily seduced into seeing the 'Celtic church' and heritage as the salvation or cure for all maladies in the Church of the West. Having said that, this stream really does feed my soul and spirit in so many ways. I love the inherent blend and balance of 'head and heart and hand.'

I see an emphasis on that which is of this earth, without being pantheistic or 'worldly' but rather drawing me to a more Hebraic (than Greco and 'spiritual') actuality, groundedness, hubris and incarnational vision of God and a daily stance on this-here earth in the here and now. The constant pointers to - and the reminders of the immediacy of God's Presence in all of life, in issues great and issues small (if indeed any issues can truly be said to be 'small' . . .) have recently proven to be so very welcome, even healing.

The writer of the following poem was written by a leprous woman of Harris, in Scotland's Western highlands. From a body that was not right but from a heart that was so atuned to God in God's world come words that touch me in a deep way, to my wholness longing and to my Saviour pointing.

It were as easy for Jesus
To renew the withered tree
As to wither the new
Were it His will so to do.
Jesu! Jesu! Jesus!
Jesu! meet it were to praise Him.

There is no plant in the ground
But is full of His virtue,
There is no form in the strand
But is full of His blessing.
Jesu! Jesu! Jesus!
Jesu! meet it were to praise Him.

There is no life in the sea,
There is no creature in the river,
There is naught in the firmament,
But proclaims His goodness.
Jesu! Jesu! Jesus!
Jesu! meet it were to praise Him.

There is no bird on the wing,
There is no star in the sky,
There is nothing beneath the sun,
But proclaims His goodness.
Jesu! Jesu! Jesus!
Jesu! meet it were to praise Him.