Tradition says he lost his skin, Being flayed alive and then Beheaded; so the paintings show Him with a large knife and his own Skin, draped sometimes as a shroud, Sometimes like a robe of glory. And there is only one story Which the Scriptures tell of him; He carries there another name – Nathanael,Continue reading “Skin and Soul (For Bartholomew, Apostle and Martyr)”
Author Archives: Matthew Pullar
The Meaning of Spring
In honour of Melbourne’s indecisive weather and the potential end of the souther winter, here is an essay I have written about the poetic implications of spring. The Meaning of Spring
Birthday For All Anglicans
(On making the 8th of September the day for remembering all Anglican birthdays) Although I have no doubt that Mary, Jesus’ mother, was once born, And though, however ordinary, Her day of birth deserves no scorn, It seems to me that many here Have had birthdays which we do not Remember in the Christian Year;Continue reading “Birthday For All Anglicans”
Only This (For John Fisher and Thomas More)
I missed this one too back on 6 July. It was a difficult one to write, being about two martyrs of the British Counter Reformation – two men about whom good can be said but who, in the end, sadly missed the point. Only This (For John Fisher and Thomas More) When all is revealed,Continue reading “Only This (For John Fisher and Thomas More)”
Like Him
Here is another poem belonging earlier in the calendar. This one was written for the third Sunday of Easter. Like Him We saw Him; He sat With us and ate A piece of bread. We heard His voice and Knew it; He Showed His hands and Feet to say: Do ghosts have hands And feetContinue reading “Like Him”
Ears, Hands and Eyes
Collating my poems so far, I have realised that there were a few days in the calendar which I missed. I am now going back to write the missing poems, and will post them, a little out of order, as I write them. This poem was written for the second Sunday of Easter. Ears, HandsContinue reading “Ears, Hands and Eyes”
De Amore Dei (For Bernard of Clairvaux)
You want me to tell you why God is to be loved and how much. I answer, the reason for loving God is God Himself; and the measure of love due to Him is immeasurable love. (Bernard of Clairvaux, On Loving God) The honey-tongued doctor With his gentlest words And his stern rod of powerContinue reading “De Amore Dei (For Bernard of Clairvaux)”
Fear and Wisdom (Twelfth Sunday After Pentecost)
It starts with a child on his knees: Lord, I am so small; this task Is vast beyond my comprehension. How can I know now what to do? This is how it starts – the tremor and The sense of awe, the knowledge that The universe is bigger than All of our strength and prideContinue reading “Fear and Wisdom (Twelfth Sunday After Pentecost)”
Magnificat (For Mary, Mother of Jesus)
My soul will magnify the Lord, Though my body humbles Him – Eternity contained within a womb; Grand kingdoms thrown to the ground And humble plots of land raised up; The hungry filled, the complacent hungry; The pure made from earthly soil; The humble one called blessed. All this is reversed when Eternity enters myContinue reading “Magnificat (For Mary, Mother of Jesus)”
Faces in the Colosseum (For the Martyrs of the 20th Century)
I. It is hard for those who have never known persecution, And who have never known a Christian, To believe these tales of Christian persecution. (T.S. Eliot, Choruses from “The Rock”) When we saw the trains go by, We did not ask who rode in them. When we saw the churches close, We must confessContinue reading “Faces in the Colosseum (For the Martyrs of the 20th Century)”
The Consolations of Writing 