Something ends here: paused mid-threat, flung groundward, the man called Saul can breathe no more murder while the horse kicks up its hooves and he points his arms half-desperate at heaven. Something begins here yet it looks altogether like dying: the fall, the pervasive dark, the eyes failing to see, and yet the spirit cognisantContinue reading “Damascus 1”
Category Archives: Easter
“…and how he was known to them in the breaking of the bread” (Emmaus 3)
How like him to appear this way: a walk alongside the mourners, an attentive ear, a willingness to linger, and then – the climax – seated at table, bread, the beloved symbol, poised in hand, and at its breaking all finally clear. How like him who broke bread with Zaccheus, with Levi, with Judas. HowContinue reading ““…and how he was known to them in the breaking of the bread” (Emmaus 3)”
Chiaroscuro
To Cleopas and his friend, the revelation and its impact no doubt stuck. Their paradigm, irremediably shifted, could hardly go back. Such things as resurrections we don’t forget in any hurry. Yet for those serving at table, I wonder: did the light dawn so quickly, so decisively? More or less a normal night’s work, andContinue reading “Chiaroscuro”
Recognised, Became Invisible: For Jean-Luc Marion
Was it the breaking of bread that did it, That act just so like the Bread of Life? Or was it how the Word opened up the word And our hearts were like flames within us? Our eyes Beheld but did not understand, intuit What lay behind all those parables, rife With intimations of truth,Continue reading “Recognised, Became Invisible: For Jean-Luc Marion”
Easter Sunday
Unintentionally, I keep vigil the night before while my son, restless for the dawn, unsettled by the changing of the clocks, bids me stay awake and pray. Some sleep gained before sunrise, yet when the lights comes it feels somehow the natural outworking of the night, for I’ve walked through all its stations, met itsContinue reading “Easter Sunday”
Open
And immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue loosed, and he spoke, blessing God. (Luke 1:64) No good unless used for you: only death, only a swallowing tomb. No sweet grapes from a rotten vine; no figs budding from a cursed tree. When speaking, we curse; when silent, bones waste… Until the words, HeContinue reading “Open”
Break O’Day
Written Easter Sunday in Pyengana, Tasmania Dedicated to the people of Break O’Day Parish, St Helens Drink from the brook. The day sparkles the hills in their joy. Look to the mountains: there comes your help. Springing forth from caves with rolled-away stones breaks the day, breaks the day. Singing in haze, this resurrection joyContinue reading “Break O’Day”
Bursting Dimensions
If you really believe, then the day and the dull of its light won’t confine the dimensions of sight; you may look through the night and see there the promise of Life. Do you really believe? On your way through the frontiers of darkness and time, you may feel all your might leak out intoContinue reading “Bursting Dimensions”
Remember our dust…
Well, as Easter week draws to a close so does my series of Lenten and Easter reflections. But Easter season continues for some weeks now, and my prayer is that we can all use this season to remind ourselves of what is a daily truth: that God’s people are a resurrection people. Here, to bringContinue reading “Remember our dust…”
Easter Friday
The seed sown in good soil dies, yet gives life thirty, sixty, one hundred times over. Some seed will scatter, be lost, when cares and trials come to choke, to scorch like sun’s temptation. Yet seed which dies gladly is more than seed, more than earth, more than the narrowness of our dust’s conceptions…
The Consolations of Writing 