Author Archives: Matthew Pullar

George Herbert at Bemerton

I am the man who has seen affliction… (Lamentation 3:1) His portrait would have him serenely contemplating a garden, one hand raised beatifically like the saints of old. Often I would have my days like that, passed in that perfect serene of green, spirit quiet within like the waters without, no trouble straining pastoral brow.Continue reading “George Herbert at Bemerton”

Miracles of Grass

A devout gardener, my eldest comes out hereeach day, to inspect, to water.Sometimes he waters the concrete, sometimesthe soil. Most of itis sapped up by unseasonal sun,some soaks in. Butas we persist, he and I, we seethis transformation, likea renewing mind: creeper grassstretching outgreen tendrils into a former wastelandand I am mindful to watchthe miracleContinue reading “Miracles of Grass”

Toddler-speed

Only when we are going somewhere does he dawdle, suddenly eager to investigate every fencepost, every garden paver. When we’ve all the world’s time, he hurries, as though life might catch him before he is done, as one learns to do when small and only grown-ups can open doors for you, where moments must beContinue reading “Toddler-speed”

Flesh

So the word of God became a human being and lived among us.(John 1:14 – J.B. Phillips Translation) By any standard it would beextraordinary to findthe infinite, immortal constrained in time but to find Divinity where it knew full wellthe hearts of manand how they turned, mostly away – to find the all-sufficient taking onthisContinue reading “Flesh”

Logos

At the beginning God expressed himself.(John 1:1 – J.B. Phillips Translation) The urge to speak, to connect:is it heresy to find this in the Immortal,the all-sufficient? Havingno need of us, and yet He speaks –is Word. And we,the subjects of His sentences,are warmed by the light of His present tense, turningthis way, and that,choosing darknessContinue reading “Logos”

Unless I See: After Caravaggio’s “Incredulity of Saint Thomas”

No need to touch the scars; Caravaggio got that detail wrong. The sheer force of His presence made Thomas crumple, doubt ceasing where belief gained life, the parched taste, hesitant like salt, exultant like wine, as loosened lips croaked, My Lord and my God. Yet I am comforted to see both the outstretched hand andContinue reading “Unless I See: After Caravaggio’s “Incredulity of Saint Thomas””

They knew Him too at breakfast

where, on the shore, He hadalready assembled, as a table,prepared for expected guests,a charcoal fire, some fish laid out,and, being himself the bread,a loaf laid for good measure. No need, of course, for the fish they brought.No need, either, for that excess in their boats.To feed seven mouths plus His,that net-bursting horn of plenty was,asContinue reading “They knew Him too at breakfast”