I am appealing to you for a child of mine.
I mean Onesimus, whose father I became.
We all look for a sign.
We are all the same.Philemon is the Bible’s shortest book.
But it says something for hereafter.
That a slave matters even if forsook.
That he should always be looked after.
Paul says I am in the chains.
That the good news has bought me.
Finding himself cured.
One of them turned back.
With gratitude was he lured.
What thanks giving and gratitude do we lack.
Only one of the ten turned back.
I wonder would we be one of the ten.
We think little of what we have , a lot on what we lack.
I suppose this is common with all women and men.
But what harm does it do.
To pause a while.
And say Thank You.
And go the extra mile.We may not achieve anything.
But a thank you is never nothing.……..
Finding himself cured
One of the lepers turned back
Do we do the same
If you trust in the Lord and do good.
Then you will live in the land and be secure.
We just need to take our spiritual food.
And resist the world’s lure.
If you find delight in the Lord.
He will grant your heart’s desire.
We will always remain on board.
Our faith on fire.
He protects the lives of the upright.
Their heritage will last for ever.
As long as they keep truth in sight.
Can we keep faith for ever.
You shall have a home for ever.
You will live for ever
……
Just trust in the Lord
You will live secure always
Try to keep the faith
God has chosen them to give the eternal life.
That was promised .
Surely their sacrifice will suffice.
Given that their old age was missed.
I was looking at a village war memorial.
Seven names in this tiny settlement.
Who knows them now or will tell their tale.
But are they not worthy of testament.
They would all any way be dead now.
But Reuben, Isaac, Fred and friends died so young.
I suppose with no children or grandchildren to follow.
They never made an ascent past a youthful rung.
But their name is inscribed.
And remembered.
……
God has chosen them
To give them eternal life
As also to us
Jar of meal shall not be spent.
Jug of oil shall not be emptied.
Just as Elijah had foretold the jar of meal was not spent.
The jug of oil was not emptied.
I was listening to Faure’s Sanctus in his Requiem.
In the other room Celebrity Come Dancing was on.
I know I greatly prefer the first item.
But all too soon this music was drifting away, gone.
I felt even more greatly drawn to all things spiritual.
Calming , not demanding.
Other worldly not material.
Joyous, soothing, inspiring
When all that is spiritual is attempted.
The jug of hope is never emptied.
…. ..
When is our meal spent
Is our jug of oil emptied
Yes, if we lose hope
Making a whip out of some cord.
He drove them all out of the Temple.
And how often in the market do we forget the Lord.
Do we always make him welcome.
He said, take all this out of here.
And stop turning my father’s house into a market .
In our own church is concentration all too rare.
Thinking about what to buy next in the supermarket.
We were at mass in the Holy Souls chapel.
Here everyone will surely eventually end up in heaven.
It’s just a question of seeing it as a temple.
Good , lazy , indifferent, an ante room to heaven.
There are countless holy souls.
And as many worthwhile roles.
…….
Worship in temple
Is sometimes very easy
More often it’s hard
There was a rich man and he had a steward denounced.
For being wasteful with his property.
Our fate is long ago announced.
But we are not necessarily called to spiritual poverty.
Draw up for me an account of your stewardship.
Because you are not to be my steward any longer.
We cannot rely on any friendship.
We may get weaker or stronger.
I know what I shall do when I am dismissed.
There will be someone to welcome me.
No opportunity missed.
Maybe not now but redemption, we shall see.
The master praised the dishonest steward for his astuteness.
He will us too, but we must acknowledge our unfitness.
……..
Are we too denounced
For being wasteful in our gifts
But we’re forgiven
There is one thing I ask.
To live in the house of the Lord.
So what is our task.
And what will I be asked by the Lord.
At death we will be judged by our love.
Not by who we were or what we achieved.
That’s all that really matters above.
So why waste time on being aggrieved.
We will have run our race.
We pray we will not have exhausted ourselves for nothing.
Our eyes closing here we shall look the Lord in the face.
And his glance will be all discerning and loving.
By our love for him we will be judged.
But also for our love for all will we be judged.
……
At our own passing
We will be judged by our love
For him and for all
Come along to the banquet, everything is ready.
But all alike started to make excuses.
And own will is unsteady.
We get up to all sorts of ruses.
One said, I have bought a piece of land.
And must go and see it.
Our material wants are well planned.
Our egoism well honed and lit.
Another said, I have bought five pair of oxen.
And I’m on my way to try them out.
God can wait, we want some fun.
And then surprised, we arrive at burnout.
They all said, please accept my apologies.
And we of course give our own apologies.
…….
He gave a banquet
They all gave apologies
And we do the same
That they cannot pay you back.
Means that you are fortunate.
We are blessed in what we lack.
We are what we are , not what we rate.Everybody is to be self effacing.
Always consider the other person to be better .
It’s good enough to walk rather than be racing.
Nicer rather than fitter.
If we worried less about number one.
And thought more of others .
If we were happy to be no one rather than someone.
We might break these selfish tethers.
Of course we say that.
But do we do that.
…….
Cannot pay you back
Perhaps you are fortunate
Being left behind
I love you Lord.
My strength.
We can do nothing if we lose touch with this spiritual cord.
To search for his love we must go to any length.
I was in a Quaker friends meeting.
Immersed in the silence.
We use too many words in our churching.
We should let the silent Holy Spirit be the essence.
On our own we can do nothing.
Self help is not an option.
Otherwise we find everything too demanding.
We act then just in permanent reaction.
We just need to repeat.
The Lord my strength and we shall sit at his seat.
….
I love you my Lord
Because you are my only strength
But do we believe
Happy the gentle.
They shall have the earth for their heritage.
We can never aspire to their mantle.
For they are there from age to age.I was disappointed I couldn’t get to mass today.
But I was sitting alone in church reading this gospel.
Looking for some hopeful ray.
Suddenly I just believed this tale.That’s how faith emerges.
Out of nowhere.
Belief surges.
And removes all doubt and fear.The saints have found this path joyously.
And we follow them wearily, hopefully.
…….
Happy the gentle
They shall inherit the earth
We ask what are we
Grow strong in the Lord.
With the strength of his power .
Take up the divine sword.
Aim all the higher.Put on God’s armour.
So as to resist the devil’s tactics.
Be a spiritual farmer.
And avoid all his antics.
But if we pray to a saint.
And worry less.
We can fill our vision with beautiful oil paint.
And ourselves positively express.
If I spend the night in praying.
I feel so much better than just worrying.
…….
Grow strong in the Lord
Put on the armour of God
And resist evil
The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed.
Which a man took and threw into his garden.
It grew and became a mighty tree from this tiny seed.
And birds sheltered in its branches in his garden.Why is my faith so fragile.
I could not risk death for it.
These martyrs went the extra mile.
My light will die , theirs remains lit.
But ours is a different time.
More questioning.
Difference in religion no longer a crime.
We are rightly more forgiving.
So we live in our own age.
Which perhaps is more sage.
……
From this mustard seed
A mighty tree does flourish
And so will our faith
Jesus went into the hills to pray.
And he spent the whole night in prayer.
Can we our own troubles lay.
Layer by layer.I spent a waking part of the night.
In silent prayer.
Seeking some light.
Layer by layer.
I thought of something, someone irritating.
With prayer it dissolved.
Dissipating.
Resolved.
Keep praying.
And hoping.
….
He went to the hills
Alone in the night to pray
Will we follow him
Son of David , Jesus have pity on me.
And many of them scolded him and told him to keep quiet.
But he only shouted all the louder , have pity on me.
And in generations past some refused to keep quiet.
The church of St Ignatius at Chideock is lonely .
It celebrates seven brave martyrs.
Put to death with barbarity , slowly.
Some laymen , some in holy orders.
In this quiet atmosphere.
Not a mile from the busy seaside you will probably be alone.
But there is nothing to fear .
Or now after all these years to atone.
We celebrate now that we get along.
All entitled to our own praise song.
……..
Have pity on me
He shouted all the louder
And we do the same
To some his gift to them was that they should become apostles.
To some prophets.
To some evangelists writing gospels.
To some teachers laying spiritual deposits.
All I can do is to attempt to write.
Maybe inadequately.
And maybe to recite.
Somewhat nervously.
But we cannot be apostles.
Or prophets.
Or write gospels.
We can only lay puny deposits.
But we all have a role.
Just as we all have a soul
……
We’re not apostles
And we’re not evangelists
But we have a role
Bear with one another charitably.
In complete selflessness.
And calmly, amiably.
With patience and gentleness.
Do all you can to preserve the unity of the spirit.
By the peace that binds you together.
However little our merit.
And whatever the spiritual weather.
There is one Lord.
One baptism.
One faith in the Lord.
One God we are called to in baptism.
There is one Father of all.
Over all, through all and within all.
……
Bear charitably
And in complete selflessness
In calm patience