Posted in music, Uncategorized

Indescribable by Chris Tomlin

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Posted in Humour, Jesus

WWJT?

At the New Christian Media Conference ….we were shown this clip in the Twitter seminar which is worth watching….

We were also shown this picture:

After the seminar we were asked the question: What Would Jesus Tweet? WWJT?   I wonder….

Posted in death, Funeral Poem, grief

Is heaven in the yellow pages?

Mummy went to Heaven, but I need her here today,
My tummy hurts and I fell down, I need her right away.
Operator can you tell me how to find her in this book?
Is Heaven in the yellow part, I don’t know where to look.
I think my daddy needs her too, at night I hear him cry.
I hear him call her name sometimes, but I really don’t know why.
Maybe if I call her, she will hurry home to me.
Is Heaven very far away, is it across the sea?
She’s been gone a long, long time. She really needs to come home now!
I really need to reach her but I simply don’t know how.
Help me find the number please, Is it listed under Heaven?
I can’t read these big words, I am only seven.
I’m sorry operator, I didn’t mean to make you cry.
Is your tummy hurting too, or is there something in your eye?
If I call my church maybe they will know.
Mummy said when we need help that’s where we should go.
I found the number to my church tacked up on the wall.
Thank you operator, I’ll give them a call.
 
 by Donna Groleau.
Posted in death, grief

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

Posted in Humour

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
Posted in Love, music

Wedding Entrance

On monday clergy from Lincoln diocese spent time with the wedding project team and they showed this clip of a wedding entrance which is viewed by an amazing amount of people….it just seems to draw you in….

Posted in Bishop of Grantham, Church of England, Poem

Part the curtains

I went with the Bishop fo Grantham to a Confirmation Service at St. George’s Church in Stamford.  It was a great service and there was a time of sharing of faith…why the candidates  had chosen to / been called to be confirmed within the service.  Katrina shared this poem she had written:

Part The Curtains

Does not beauty shine forth behind the clouds?
Does not light overrule the darkness?
 
God’s light is like the sun above the clouds,
Always present.
And when the clouds part, does not a banner of hope come forth?
 
A golden beacon,
A candle in the dark.
 
Does not a smile appear upon your face,
At the sight of such beauty and hope?
 
Don’t give up hoping,
Don’t live in despair.
 
Christ is watching from behind the clouds,
Waiting for you to part the curtains,
 And embrace the light.

By Katrina Sissins

Posted in Church of England, Humour, Poem

Diary of a Church Mouse

It’s Harvest time again….here is a harvest poem….

The Diary of a Church Mouse  by John Betjeman

Here among long-discarded cassocks,
Damp stools, and half-split open hassocks,
Here where the vicar never looks
I nibble through old service books.
Lean and alone I spend my days
Behind this Church of England baize.
I share my dark forgotten room
With two oil-lamps and half a broom.
 The cleaner never bothers me,
So here I eat my frugal tea.
My bread is sawdust mixed with straw;
My jam is polish for the floor.
Christmas and Easter may be feasts
For congregations and for priests,
And so may Whitsun. All the same,
They do not fill my meagre frame.
For me the only feast at all
Is Autumn’s Harvest Festival,
When I can satisfy my want
With ears of corn around the font.
I climb the eagle’s brazen head
To burrow through a loaf of bread.
I scramble up the pulpit stair
And gnaw the marrows hanging there.
It is enjoyable to taste
These items ere they go to waste,
But how annoying when one finds
That other mice with pagan minds
Come into church my food to share
Who have no proper business there.
Two field mice who have no desire
To be baptized, invade the choir.
A large and most unfriendly rat
Comes in to see what we are at.
He says he thinks there is no God
And yet he comes … it’s rather odd.
This year he stole a sheaf of wheat
(It screened our special preacher’s seat),
And prosperous mice from fields away
Come in to hear our organ play,
And under cover of its notes
Ate through the altar’s sheaf of oats.
 A Low Church mouse, who thinks that
I Am too papistical, and High,
Yet somehow doesn’t think it wrong
To munch through Harvest Evensong,
While I, who starve the whole year through,
Must share my food with rodents who
Except at this time of the year
Not once inside the church appear.
Within the human world I know
Such goings-on could not be so,
For human beings only do
What their religion tells them to.
They read the Bible every day
And always, night and morning, pray,
 And just like me, the good church mouse,
Worship each week in God’s own house,
But all the same it’s strange to me
How very full the church can be
With people I don’t see at all
Except at Harvest Festival.
Posted in Bishop of Grantham

Burn baby burn! (via Bishop Tim Ellis’s Weblog)

Burn baby burn! Who would have thought that a tiny church of some fifty adherents, tucked away in the west of the United States could create such a storm? And yet the ironically named Terry Jones (who shares his name with the much more intelligent and astute former Monty Python member, who helped create a similar international incident with their supposedly irreverent ‘Life of Brian’) has done just that: make it widely known that you are going to burn the most h … Read More

via Bishop Tim Ellis’s Weblog

Posted in alternative worship, liturgy

Purple

I saw this liturgy on Jonny Baker’s Blog – fantastic….

Christ’s piece is you,
Christ’s piece is me,
It is those that do,
And it is those that be,
Without one another we can’t cover 360 degrees,
Because we don’t need ‘I’s to see, we need We.

As every image that we see of ourselves is reflected,
Every image that we see of the world is subjective,
We need two points of view to gain some perspective,
And the ability and humility to accept this.

Because in our vision lies division,
A polarised view of action and pacifism,
But contradiction doesn’t mean fact and fiction,
more like discordant harmonies in the melody of wisdom.

I need you, like red needs blue,
You need me, like do needs be,
And life shouldn’t be binary,
Our eyes shouldn’t be primary,
We need to trade in reds and blues for indigos and violets see:
We need to try and be purple.

Not just protest march bruises as we go out and do,
Or blood filled cheeks as we hold our breath and be,
I mean purple.
Full circle.
The hares and the rabbits,
the tortoises and turtles,
Purple.

So let us be moved to be mauve,
Maroon and mulberry,
Lilac, plum and lavender,
May the red and blue poles of our souls and our minds combine to be magnets of magenta,
Purple.

May we take the opposites and make the composite,
As every image has its limits
And every picture could be richer,
If we have someone else to see that we are in it,
We need to be purple.

[by Harry Baker aka Dubb]