Dirt, Mess and Danger

• Editorial: Wild Goose Publications
• Año: 2012
• ISBN:
  9781849522137
• Categoría: Theology & Religion
• Categoría: Philosophy of Religion

Liturgies, meditations, reflections, prayers, poems etc that have been tried and tested with local congregations, often at ecumenical worship events. They celebrate the One who came to earth to live a fully human life, who understands what it is to be human. Material for Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Holy Week, Easter, Pentecost and more.

LIFE

A WOMAN’S BREAST

‘Where do you stand on a mother
breastfeeding her child in the church?’ she asked.
‘Some of them are muttering.’
(There had been a baptism with lots of visitors that day.)
‘Surely you already know the answer to that,’ I replied.

‘Is a woman’s breast such an abomination
in the eyes of its Maker?
Should a hungry infant be denied
the satisfaction it needs and craves for?
Is the sight of human flesh,
and the sound of human sucking,
and the mess of a dirty nappy
so hideously unacceptable
that the God of heaven and earth
puckers his lips and averts his eyes
in disapproval, disgust and distaste?

‘Flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone he was:
puking and shitting;
bleeding and needing;
wanting and getting;
his mother breastfeeding
her life-giving love to her child in the form of a liquid.

‘When the woman with a permanent period touched him,
did he think he should turn her away?
When a beggar with lice stood before him,
did he turn up his nose at the smell?
When a leper whose fingers had gone,
who had been outcast and shunned for so long,
looked for acceptance so he could belong,
was he rejected, despised and dismissed,
or was he welcomed, embraced and even kissed?
Does the one who once sucked at a breast
avoid dirt, mess and danger?’

BUGGER OFF!

This piece has been toned down. Originally it was titled ‘Fuck off!’ If what is written here is still too dangerous, then substitute ‘Get lost!’ or ‘Take a hike!’, or some phrase of your own choosing. This meditation might follow a New Testament reading which contains one of the scriptural references mentioned.

‘Bugger off!’ That’s what he told them
(or at least the first-century Palestinian equivalent).
‘Bugger off!’ he said.
And as you might imagine, they were well upset.
But as far as we know, he didn’t lose any sleep over it.

This young guy was a radical, a rebel, a rabble-rouser,
and he wasn’t much given to mincing his words.
See, he couldn’t abide the mellifluous mealy-mouthedness
of those who trotted out pleasing platitudes,
and simpered ‘There, there,’
as they served up their sympathy like sweet and milky tea.
‘Bugger off!’ he told them.

He said it to the crowd of pious persecutors who picked up rocks,
intent on using them to pummel a woman to death.
‘Bugger off! Leave her alone, unless you have always been pure and pristine yourself.’
And they did: all of them walked away.

He said it to his own alter ego
when he wrestled with some internal, silver-tongued devil
who dangled the carrot of an attractive, but utterly false, way to live.
‘Bugger off!’ he said. ‘I’m taking a different road.’
And he did.

He shouted it at those who grumbled and girned
about one of his most ardent fans:
a woman by the name of Mary,
whose belief in him was such,
whose respect for him was such,
whose feelings for him were such,
that she spent her hard-earned coinage
to practise what he preached about generosity.

She emptied a perfume jar all over his feet
to show how much she loved him;
to let him know he was valued and wanted.
She did it to make him feel good about himself.
‘What right has she to squander like this?’ they complained.
‘Bugger off!’ And he said it in no uncertain manner.

He said it to the holy thought-police too.
‘Why have you not washed your hands before eating
when you know that’s what the rules clearly demand?’
‘Why have you deliberately infected yourself
when you know exactly who you may and may not touch?’
‘Why are you rubbing shoulders with criminals and prostitutes
when you are aware God always prefers those of respectable class?’
‘Why do you align yourself with low-lifes and riff-raff
when the scriptures say you must keep yourself squeaky-clean?’
‘Bugger off!’ he told them.
‘It’s whether your heart is warm is what matters.’

But there was a gentleness in this man’s toughness
and a toughness in the gentleness of his love.
An unusual individual; different; on another planet;
wired to the moon;
but then so is the God of heaven and God of earth.

‘Bugger off!’ he told them repeatedly
(or at least the first-century Palestinian equivalent).
I think it would please him
if sometimes we had the courage to say the same.

THE AGE OF INNOCENCE

This reflection could be followed by the song ‘Take this moment’ (CH4 501). ‘Bahookie’ is a Scottish word for backside.

Reading: Matthew 18:2–3

At five years old, pink is her favourite colour:
the brighter and more garish the better.
She has a great fondness for stuff that sparkles,
and prefers shoes which allow her to skip.
She loves cutting things, gluing things,
drawing things, painting things,
and then collaging them.
Imagination has always been
one of her most attractive features.

It’s hard to find words
to describe the deep internal contentment
–a visceral satisfaction really –
of holding, close in cuddle, her little lithesome body:
warm skin, tight, unblemished and smooth;
fresh from the bath, and smelling of apple;
snuggling up in warm woolly dressing gown
(pink, of course!).

And then the predictable, expectant request
(a long-established nightly custom):
‘Grandad! Time to magic a bedtime book
from under the cushion!’
(with the help of Daphne the dog).

The ritual search takes place. Nothing there!
And so the magic mantra is recited:

‘Daphne’s bahookie, we’ve all had a look.

Daphne’s bahookie, please magic a book.’

The little blotting-paper mind, thirsty for information,
absorbing knowledge by the gallon,
wants to know about volcanic eruptions,
ancient Romans and Tyrannosaurus rex.

In childlike innocence,
she believes the best,
sees the best,
looks for the best,
hopes the best,
expects the best in people;
in the world around her;
in all her encounters and experiences.

She lives each day as it comes;
takes people as they are;
accepts what she senses at simple face value.
Her attention is focussed on the moment –
and she marvels at this world in which she lives.

As yet, her thinking largely untainted, unbiased;
her mind uncorrupted, undefiled;
her nature still sweet and wonderfully unfettered.

And so to bed,
to sleep the sleep of innocence;
to dream the dreams of who knows what,
and where, and why…

And then I look at myself, and think:
Where has my innocence gone?
Dented, bruised and heavily tainted
by a long lifetime of living:
suspicious, distrusting, defensive, often scheming;
guarded and measured in my generosity;
typically thinking the worst…

Jesus, now I understand why you said it:
Unless you become like a little child,
and take on board all and everything this implies,
you have no chance of starting your living all over again,
and even less of knowing what God’s kingdom is
and what it really means.

LIGHT IN CREATION’S DARK

Voice 1:

Yours the light in creation’s dark,
separating order from chaos,
bringing brightness to the barrenness of what once was.
And then in Jesus, human flesh articulates your way,
for in him renewal finds meaning,
transformation finds focus,
the power of Love is unleashed on the world
and in the people you love.

Voice 2:

You have made your folk
and placed goodness in their hearts –
not so that it can remain there impotent and unemployed,
but be released and set free and put to work
to overcome what demeans and diminishes.
So then, summon out this great energy within us,
for love lies latent.
Do not let our potential remain silent,
nor our Godness remain dormant and unfulfilled.

Voice 3:

We know of the dark forces that stalk the world in our time:
the potency of poverty;
the evil of famine and deprivation;
the power of greed;
the hideousness of war;
the fascinations that di...

Índice

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Introduction
• Advent and Christmas
• Epiphany
• Lent
• Holy Week
• Easter
• Pentecost
• Life
• Death and bereavement
• Remembering
• Eating together
• Conversations