Vincent set sail rich in mind, Schooled in the sciences, Brimming with faith; What trials he met, what pirates took from him Was replenished with stores Of faith refined as gold; What masters bought him – a chemist bent On finding life’s elixir stone; A desert farmer fled from faith – Saw in him theContinue reading “Gold Refined (For Vincent de Paul)”
Author Archives: Matthew Pullar
Via Media (For Lancelot Andrewes, Bishop of Winchester)
If, on finding that we pulled Too hard in one direction, we Shift the tension to the other, We may find ourselves too far The other way, pushed by reaction And not by the force of truth. If we find the past has held Countless errors built on error, We may run the other wayContinue reading “Via Media (For Lancelot Andrewes, Bishop of Winchester)”
The Troitzka Abbey (For Sergius of Moscow)
Once it was said that he had about him The humble smell of forest firs; And once amidst those firs he built A church which now stands large and great, Rooted and established in The truth of love, the three-in-one. And with the fall and rise of many Empires and their architects, It remains. ThoughContinue reading “The Troitzka Abbey (For Sergius of Moscow)”
Communion at Westminster: Autumn in Europe Day 2
If, like me, you grew up with British culture from afar, through English novels, TV shows, films and a famous London-themed real estate board game, then coming to London for the first time will be full of odd little moments of recognition. You will find yourself walking down Oxford Street, only to notice Regent StreetContinue reading “Communion at Westminster: Autumn in Europe Day 2”
From Kensington to Kensington: Autumn in Europe Day 1
I have always wanted to come to England. When I was a child, for reasons that have escaped me in the years since, I was quite an Anglophile and dearly wished that I had been born in England or, if possible, Scotland. It wasn’t possible; neither option was. I had been born in Australia, andContinue reading “From Kensington to Kensington: Autumn in Europe Day 1”
Beatus (Seventeenth Sunday After Pentecost)
My happiness lies at Wisdom’s feet; She covers me with what she weaves; She plants her trees where they will flourish And in her garden I flourish too. My happiness is hidden from The way of fools who will uproot The joy and peace of those who sit Within their fading, foolish throne. My happinessContinue reading “Beatus (Seventeenth Sunday After Pentecost)”
Found (For St Matthew, Apostle and Martyr)
He found me sitting at my booth, My counterfeit, faux-Roman throne, Where I hoarded wealth and guilt And bought my people’s shame. He found me sitting at my booth And said to me, “Rise; follow me”, Without equivocation, no Question in his voice. They saw him at the table with me And with other sinnersContinue reading “Found (For St Matthew, Apostle and Martyr)”
Palm Branches (For John Coleridge Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia)
Let this be said of the one who died, The bishop whose body they found afloat On a palm fibre mat and a palm branch in hand; Let this be said: that he lived as he died, Life given up, at the mercy of waves, Sailing where God’s current-love took him. Let this be said:Continue reading “Palm Branches (For John Coleridge Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia)”
New text message discovery gives fuel to millennium debate
An article in today’s Age Online, reporting the discovery of a 4th century manuscript claiming that Jesus had a wife, annoyed me sufficiently to prompt this short newspaper article of my own. I only hope that all new archeological discoveries are allowed to challenge long-held axioms in the way that the Age has let thisContinue reading “New text message discovery gives fuel to millennium debate”
The Thatch Chapel (For John Ramsden Wollaston)
Great expectations brought him here But disappointment welcomed him, And when the wealth across the seas Did not extend into his hand He put them to good work, to build A chapel made of thatch. And slowly, from his backyard’s soil, That church of thatch soon stood tall, Though humble, and opened its doors ToContinue reading “The Thatch Chapel (For John Ramsden Wollaston)”
The Consolations of Writing 