What Priests want you to know

What Priests want you to know

I came across this new blog with an interesting title – Dirty Sexy Ministry – written by two priests and found it very interesting and humourous – it’s worth a look….

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, –and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of –Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air…
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew –
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

by John Gillespie Magee, Jr

Death by Joyce Grenfell

If I should die before the rest of you,

Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone.

Nor, when I’m gone, speak in a Sunday voice,

But be the usual selves that I have known.

Weep if you must,

Parting is hell.

But life goes on, So…….. sing as well.

Joyce Grenfell, actress and writer (1910 – 1979)

The cost of pain

Nothing can make up for the absence

of someone whom we love,

and it would be wrong to try to find a substitute;

we must simply hold out and see it through.

That sounds very hard at first,

but at the same time it is a great consolation,

 for the gap, as long as it remains unfilled,

preserves the bonds between us.

It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap;

God doesn’t fill it, but on the contrary, he keeps it empty

and so helps us to keep alive our former communion

with each other,

even at the cost of pain.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Will we have a test on it?

Then Jesus took his disciples up the mountain,
and gathering them around him he taught them saying:

Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are the meek.
Blessed are they that mourn.
Blessed are the merciful.
Blessed are they who thirst for justice.
Blessed are all the concerned.
Blessed are you when persecuted.
Blessed are you when you suffer.
Be glad and rejoice for your reward is great in heaven
try to remember what I am telling you

 

Then Simon Peter said,

     Will this count?

and Andrew said,

     Will we have a test on it?

and James said,

    When do we have to know it for?

and Phillip said,

     How many words?

and Bartholomew said,

     Will I have to stand up in front of the others?

and John said,

     The other disciples didn’t have to learn this.

and Matthew said,

     How many marks do we get for it?

And Judas said,

     What is it worth?

and the other disciples likewise.

 

Then one of the Pharisees who was present
asked to see Jesus’ lesson plan
and inquired of Jesus
his terminal objectives in the cognitive domain

 

and Jesus wept.

 
Don Linehan

God looked around his garden

God looked around his garden

And He found an empty place.

And then He looked down upon the earth,

And saw your tired face.

He put His arms around you,

And lifted you to rest.

God’s garden must be beautiful,

He always takes the best.

He knew that you were suffering,

He knew you were in pain,

He knew that you would never

Get well on earth again.

He saw the road was getting rough,

And the hills were hard to climb,

So He closed your weary eyelids,

And whispered “Peace be thine.”

Anon

Don’t cry for me

Don’t cry for me now I have died, for I’m still here I’m by your side,
My body’s gone but my soul’s is here, please don’t shed another tear,
I am still here I’m all around, only my body lies in the ground.
I am the snowflake that kisses your nose,
I am the frost, that nips your toes.
I am the sun ,bringing you light,
I am the star, shining so bright.
I am the rain, refreshing the earth,
I am the laughter, I am the mirth.
I am the bird, up in the sky,
I am the cloud, that’s drifting by.
I am the thoughts, inside your head,
While I’m still there, I can’t be dead.

Author unknown.

A Funeral Poem

Not, how did he die, but how did he live?

Not, how did he die, but how did he live?
Not, what did he gain, but what did he give?
These are the units to measure the worth
Of a man as a man, regardless of his birth.
Nor what was his church, nor what was his creed?
But had he befriended those really in need?
Was he ever ready, with words of good cheer,
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?
Not what did the sketch in the newspaper say,
But how many were sorry when he passed away?

 

Anonymous

Change

I’ve been thinking about the word ‘change’ and the effect it has on people….especially in the church. 

I recently heard the song – Mrs Beamish by Richard Stilgoe & Peter Skellern….which has a funny take on change

When I returned from holiday I found this poem about change….about welcoming change, which whilst not as funny as Mrs Beamish is a more positive view of change.

 

WELCOME CHANGE   by Gina Whitacre

Change is inevitable,

But yet we fight it, just the same.

Change is essential to our evolution.

Change is going to happen,

In fact, it happens every day,

Maybe it is too small to see, or perhaps we would rather not see it.

We fight change, because we fight the unknown,

We fight the unknown, because we are scared,

Scared of change, scared of the unknown.

If we were to allow change to happen freely,

We might find solutions to the problems that exist around us,

But instead, we are hung – up on controlling everything around us.

Maybe this is the problem with the world today.

Everyone assumes control of everything and does not allow nature to run her course.

Maybe this is why, we have devastating fall out from Nature,

Natural catastrophic disasters, such as fire and flooding.

We fight change, therefore we are fighting nature and her natural being and her existence in the world that she has created by God’s hand and has graciously allowed us to be a part of .

We should welcome change and allow nature to control our destiny.

Change is uncontrollable,

Change is inevitable,

Change is the unknown.

Nature takes pride in being one of life’s illusive wonders, the unknown. 

 

A Mother’s Prayers

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my sanity to keep.
For if some peace I do not find,
I’m pretty sure I’ll lose my mind.

  
I pray I find a little quiet
Far from the daily family riot
May I lie back–not have to think
about what they’re stuffing down the sink,
or who they’re with, or where they’re at
and what they’re doing to the cat.
   

I pray for time all to myself
(did something just fall off a shelf?)
To cuddle in my nice, soft bed
(Oh no, another goldfish–dead!)
 

Some silent moments for goodness sake
(Did I just hear a window break?)
And that I need not cook or clean…
(Well heck, I’ve got the right to dream)
   

Yes now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my wits about me keep,
But as I look around I know…
I must have lost them long ago!

   

Anon