Our Lady of Sorrows: A Meditation

Our Lady of Sorrows: A Meditation for the Feast.

Each year we come to this celebration like a full stop.

It arrests us, holds us, freezes us as we look inwardly at that scene we think we know so well.

The Woman and the Man,

the Mother and the Son…

and the Cross; always the Cross…

Mother of Sorrows we call her and she is the Mother of Sorrow today, for her Son is not just the God who is Love, but the God who is the Sorrow that Love becomes when it is refused, rejected, even hated…

In a universe of hate and betrayal she will be the one point of pure light, the one point of pure love, the one point of pure sorrow over Sorrow’s pain.

Mother of Compassion we call her. “Cum Passio” is the phrase at the root of this word; to be with the suffering. For all she can do is be with Him in His Suffering and long, as so many mothers have longed over countless ages, to end His suffering, to take His place, to stand in the place of her child.

How many war zones, sick beds, hospitals, prisons have been hallowed by such prayers over the ages?

In a universe of pain and suffering she does not look away, she stands, strong for Him who has become weakness itself in this moment, that the wound at the heart of it all may be healed. She chooses yet again, as surely as she chose in the light of the Angel all those years ago. She utters a Yes once again, this time not with words but with presence. Words without presence mean nothing… but presence, even when it is silent, is louder than thunder.

Mother of the Seven Sorrows we call her. Her life graced and blessed has been punctuated with pain. The pain of the moment and the pain of knowing, darkly at least, what is coming. Seven great sorrows we name, but they are only the beginning. Every mother knows sorrow… the sorrow of knowing that her child is not her own, not really, not in their essence, and that they must be set free to become all that they were meant to be. For her this natural letting go is revealed as a graced begetting of blessedness anew. She will let Him go, she will let Him go to His death and her faith will be the point of light and love that will call Him home to her when first He rises. The prophecy of Simeon, the Flight to Egypt, the first Loss in the Temple, the Meeting on the Road, they will all lead inevitably to the Cross, to holding her dead Son in her arms, to entombing in the womb of the Earth the One she had carried safely in her own womb. And yet, when all will be death and despair she will stand as Woman, as Mother, as the faithful witness, as the one who walks the path of living martyrdom, as the one who, on our behalf, believes past believing; doing this as only a mother can, as only a woman can, winning the victory by the purest kind of faith, unselfish Love.

Our Lady of Sorrows we call her. Ours! Yes she is ours… for in the moment of her greatest pain she says Yes to another, deeper call within her consecration. His last words will bequeath His greatest gift. Present to Him with all her love, with all her still strength and grace she is now ours too. Behold your Mother. This is the generosity of God, of Grace, of Love itself… holding nothing back for itself it gives its greatest gift away. This is the generosity of Mary that she says Yes and accepts us all in the very moment of our greatest rejection of her Son. At the pinnacle of hate she becomes the very first fruits of love, and compassion, and peace, the place where the fruits of the Cross are first tasted, the one through whom grace is liberated and the one in whose immaculate heart, pierced in the piercing of her Son’s the song of our resurrection will first be sung.

Our Lady of Sorrows, Mother of Compassion be with us and help us to carry our own Cross in faith and hope and love.

Pics above: The First is the famous rendering of Our Lady's face based upon the proportions of the Face of the Holy Shroud. The second is by Angela Yerber.

  

Mother Teresa: Saint for those in Darkness

 Mother Teresa: Saint for those in Darkness

Today we keep the feast of the great saint of the 20th century Mother Teresa of Kolkatta.
While she is known mostly for her extraordinary work for the poor and the destitute in India and throughout the world very few still know of her deep mysticism of "darkness". This darkness has nothing to do with the darkness of evil, rather it is the effect on the soul's inner eye of those who have behld the bright light of the Divine Presence... We are simply blinded by its brightness and only that light can in time restore our inner vision. It is a mystical path walked by only the greatest of those the Lord calls and one of the most difficult to even imagine... simply put after the direct call of the saint to a particular path and mission the Lord seems to withdraw His light so that prayer is an unremitting desert with only very occasional indications that God is present at all... It is a participation in the humanity of Christ crucified upon the Cross and crucified to this day in the suffering of creation while at the same time, to all around them, the saint is a source of Divine Light and grace but the saint is called to ongoing teaching, working, praying all without any form of spiritual consolation in a dark night of the soul that produces extraordinary fruit in those around them while depriving the one who is going through it of anything other than the grace to contintually welcome and fulfil the will of God in the midst of it all.

This was seen beautifully in the famous miracle of the light described by Malcolm Muggeridge in his book about her. Coming to film the work of her sisters in the 70's the BBC crew he was with were horrified to discover just how dark the building in the slums where the sisters lived was. It was so dark as to be completely unsuitable for filming. Telling one of the sisters that they would have to abandon the project the news came to Mother who famously said "I will pray." She did so and despite the objections of the crew Malcolm insisted they would film. It was only when they got back to the UK that they discovered that the whole building appeared suffused in a beautiful calm light. The cameramen confessed themselves stumped... what we were seeing, said Muggeridge, was the light of Mother's prayer.

In some of her last words about this spiritual darkness Mother Teresa promised that she would be a "saint of darkness" and like Padre Pio and St. Therese the Little Flower, she promised that she would remain at the doors of Heaven to guide and help all those going through the trial of darkness in their own lives... She is a powerful advocate for those who are suffering and seeking... I pray to her often for light and suggest you might like to also.

Mother Teresa always said her work (and ours too) is simply to be faithful to God in the present moment and not to worry about success... success belongs to God and from the Divine perspective what looks like success to us can be failure to God and vice versa! Just think of the Crucifixion! To live the Christian life is to live one that ever more surely seems to be at odds with the way the world thinks and acts... in our topsy turvy witness we are those who remind the world of what and who are really important... perhaps that is the way that the darkness of our world and the way it treats the powerless, the poor and the hurting may be overcome by the light of the Gospel.

Assumption Eve Medicine

 

 

Assumption Eve Medicine

 

For two months turning

the old women,

they who have the knowing,

have watched their charges carefully.

Picked at the height of their power

on the short night, after the long day;

the feast of fire,

that vigils the Baptist’s coming,

when lads and ladies leap

like hares over flames

and look with longing for love,

as children sing the old songs

filled with mystic meaning;

that night they were gathered

as grace and gift

beneath the light of sister Moon,

the Lady’s lamp and plucked

from garden and from forest glade,

by woman’s hands alone.

Now, they, the herbs for healing,

hang in blessed bunches

over the hearth of home,

or kept in kitchens

above the range,

or bound in byres

where the warming breath

of the queen kine keeps them

charmed and waiting

to release their medicine,

the healing pulse

of sister Mother Earth

and Brother Sun’s distilled light

mixed, and married, and greened,

in root, and shoot,

and leaf, and flower.

So they, the healing herbs,

have rested until tonight

when as dusk comes on

and begins to breathe her

autumnal quickening,

these wise ones take them down

and bring them now

to the old places of prayer

to the abbeys and chapels,

to the candled shrines

of the sainted ones,

who themselves bore

the fruit of blessing

and were heaven’s healing,

the salve of souls,

upon the earth.

There they find

the Lady’s chapel,

and lay their leafy burdens

beneath the linen cloths

upon the Altar, there to await

Assumption’s dawn,

and as the Mass bells ring

to have the holy words

said over them that render

them thrice blessed again,

and ready to release their

gentle healing gifts,

blessed once in very being

from first beginning’s breathing,

blessed twice in the burning

touch of Love’s own resurrection light

when all was made anew,

blessed thrice by the Lady’s prayers,

she who is the stock from which

all healing blooms,

and in her gathering home raised all

that grows green upon this good earth

to become heaven’s healing help again;

Eden’s elixir restored in her

and birthed anew as grace,

just as these sainted herbs

ground upon the mortar’s stone

will give their essence up,

and become the holy way

by which their medicine

blesses bodies and anoints

our souls to ready us

in our own time,

for Heaven’s

homing.

Vigil of the Assumption 14th August 2018.

In many places it was the ancient custom for women to gather herbs around the feast of St. John the Baptist (Midsummer) and then bring them to the Churches for blessing on the feast of the Assumption before they were made into medicine for the Winter ahead. The herbs were placed beneath the Altar Cloths and around the Sanctuary before the dawn Mass there to be offered to the Lord, through Mary’s hands, she who is the “first fruits” of His saving love, so as to receive her special prayers of healing and be blessed in their medicinal use in the year ahead.

The Ritual of the Church still provides for such blessings should they be requested.

 

(Pics in this post found as random uncredited images on the web)

 

 

Clare: the burning one!

Clare

There came at last
the night when,
with Bishop’s blessing,
she drew back the great bolt
and, with sudden strength
unknown before,
cast open wide
the ancient oaken doors
and left it all behind.
Breathing the cool free
air of night
her sparkling eyes, now
a mirror of the canopy
of shining sisters overhead.
Veiling herself in night,
and without a backward glance,
she fled to the forested friars
who met this already bright one
with their lamps lit at woodland edge.
So theu beckoned her
to the little house of the Mother,
where she once again
affirmed the divinely kindled desire
of her heart’s longing,
and threw herself into the flames of faith,
a furnace so incandescent
that hair, and clothing, and even name,
are burned away.
And so the robe of blessing was bestowed
and the promises that bind the hearts
of those who know
true freedom made.
He was there, of course,
to receive her sacred vows,
as his first sister,
and a daughter of his prophesying too,
Francis of the dancing fire,
whose sparking words first
heard through her window
open to the world below
found a home in the dry
kindling of her heart
and became a raging firestorm
so strong that,
castle walls and binding ties
could not hold her captive any longer,
but allowed her
leap into the arms of love itself
upon that quiet woodland night
and find within that
merry band of brothers
a garden where
her seed soul spark could
grow and bloom unhindered
and unquenched.
What psalms were sung
and candles kindled through that night
within that little portion that the Lady
had allotted them
who served her Son and Lord anew!
What rejoicing did the Angels make
drawing even the animals
to witness this new beginning
as, unseen but felt,
the fiery Dove descended
and warmed with hidden wingbeat
the heat of grace within this gracious one
now sharing in the lot of those whose
only riches are the gifts of holy love.
So Francis looked
upon this little plant
newly sown in sacred fire
and smiling saw within
the power of her poverty,
the fire that would,
in time, spread undimmed
to countless sisters
who would come
hearing of her wild wonders,
she to whom
Kings and Lords
would bow
humbled by the humility
of one who dared to trust,
as he had trust himself,
in heaven’s promise
to uphold all those
who dance across
the rose red coals
of passion
so light,
so empty,
they can not
be burned
but incandesce
themselves
and become
ah!
Fire.

St Clare’s Day 2018

Homily for the Easter Vigil 2018

Homily for the Easter Vigil 2018

The Angel said, “You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified: He has risen, He is not here. See here is the place where they laid Him. But you must go and tell His disciples and Peter: He is going before you to Galilee; it is there you will see Him, just as He told you.” Mk. 16:8

We have arrived at the place of fulfilment.

We have arrived at the place where all our longing, all our desiring falls away.

We have arrived at the moment of Resurrection, not just of Christ, but through Him and with Him and in Him, a resurrection of all that is.

Long lost in self, long lost in despair, long lost in death we had felt the coldness of a life that seems to have no meaning, no essence, no hope…

we had felt the darkness of a wintered night without and even more so within…

we know what the long night of sin has done to us…

it has worn us down…

it has shamed us…

it has taken from us all that we hoped for…

as sin always does…

since the garden we have known its false promises and since the garden we have thought them real, only to stumble and fall again and again…

And yet for thousands of years we have hoped for deliverance, for freedom, for restoration…

We have been promised such in the proclamations of prophet and in the whispers of patriarchs, in the songs of the holy women and in the innocence of children we have seen another way, we have been recalled to righteousness, we have been invited again and again into covenant…

and we have heard that it is possible that the God who is Love never abandons His creation. Never abandons His people, never abandons you, never abandons me…

And He has promised…

he has declared that not only will He be Emmanuel, the God with Us, but He will be Jesus, the One who saves us from our sins. How? By facing down our darkness. He who is light will descend into the darkness of our sin. God from God, Light from Light, true God from True God; the everlasting Word of the Father will descend, will empty Himself and descend into the very bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh… this is how much He loves us…

He will become us and in becoming us He will face our darkness, consume our sin, heal our wounds…

He will be our sacrifice, the only sacrifice acceptable to the Father for in His humanity He will descend to heal us and in His divinity He will raise us up to our eternal home in the very heart of the communion of Love that we call God…

Yes He will descend and in descending touch the darkness, touch the despair, touch the sin, touch the misery of our selfishness and for just a moment, for just a seeming moment seem to be consumed. He will touch death, death on a cross. He will touch your death, all that is dead in you, all that is dead in me…

just for a moment…

they touch…

they embrace…

they kiss…

and from the darkened Golgotha sky the source of life and light breathes out his Spirit over the chaos we have caused…

And then…

and then He conquers!

Darkness is overcome by Light

Death is overcome by Life

Despair is overcome by Hope

Love… Love…Love

conquers all!

He is Risen!

Alleluia!

He is Risen!

This is the heart of existence, the heart of the story of creation, this is what it is all about and always was and will be about…

He descends and in that universal moment of Resurrection I am raised too, you are raised too, and crackling along the great faultline of history forwards and backwards into the world of the dead and the world of those yet to come all feel that great earthquake of power as death is conquered, the gates of hell are broken and the lamb reveals himself as the Lion of Judah

and He goes before us…

listen to the words of the Angel…

He goes before us…

We will see Him there just as He told us…

He goes before us…

the One who was foretold through the ages…

the One who emptied Himself of Divine Glory so as to become one with us…

goes before us…

The One who suffered and died and rose again goes before us…

He goes before me…

He goes before you…

Do you know what that means?

It is the great Easter secret…

from now on there is never a moment in your life or in my life, never a joy, a suffering, a place, or a time where He is not already there, waiting for you to arrive and be present to Him so that He may pour out love and light and power upon you… The resurrection is not just a moment in history it is happening now…

in this moment and in every moment we will ever face!

Our choice tonight and in each moment is to liberate His power in us, to allow Him to be the God He is who waits until we allow Him in… until we become present to Him…

Otherwise we miss it… we can be like the disciples who hear the word of hope and power and dismiss it… it can’t be we think! I had my plans and they failed… I had my hopes and they failed… I know who I am and I am a failure…

So I will dismiss the easter message tonight and descend back into my worry, my pain, my story of how things should be, could have been, would have been…

No not tonight! I beg you not tonight!

Leave the tomb of the past behind… walk out into the garden of the new morning of God’s Love.

He has died to show you how much you are loved. Your God has died for you!

He has risen to show you how much you are loved. Your God has risen for you!

He has gone ahead of you to prepare a place for you. Your God goes ahead of you!

No more fear of the future then!

No more regret for the past then!

As the Lamb He has cancelled your past

As the Lion He fights for your future…

So we on this holiest of nights begin again with the God of beginning

We say to Him again Lord that I may see! Lord that I may follow! Here I am Lord in all my mess, my pain, my glorious brokenness! Here I am for you! Let me begin again this day, this very moment. Not my will but yours…

What have we to fear?

We have it from the Angel’s mouth…

He has risen…

He is not here in the place of the tomb…

He is going before you…

It is there you will see Him…

Just as He told you…

And let us pray: Lord I will follow you into the easter light of the life you have prepared for me…

The Wild Nativity

The Wild Nativity.

We have our prophecies too
you know,
we tell our own tales,
and so we knew
to gather there
that night,
ambassadors of our
varied kinds all.
Before old Joseph
came back
with supplies from the inn.
We were there,
hidden in the hay,
up amongst the old beams,
resting by the manger
or drawn there
by the new star
that rose that night
pure and shining
like a snowflake
in its light.
We were there.
We had felt the
old pull of Eden
in our furred and feathered hearts
and felt his long forgotten nearness
once again who walked with us
once in evening light.
Old rivalries forgotten,
or at least put aside tonight,
we sat peacefully
in storied rank
half hidden in the shadows,
lost in awe at her,
settled
so still
in the straw,
her eyes closed
as though present
to a mystery
within.
We were there
waiting for Him
with her.
Let us prepare
His place we said...
Wren moved first,
to pluck her own breast
scattering the softest down
amongst the rough straw
and sparrows followed
weaving moss and herbs
as mattress
as Owl, and old Crow
and Hawk directed.
"I will keep him warm",
said Robin,
reddening his breast
while fanning flame alight.
"We will sing to him
when at last He comes"
said the little ones,
four footed and furred
and long tailed too,
piping in their tiny voices
choiring high as mouse
and vole, rabbit
and hedgehog all
assembled there,
followed by fox's clear tenor
and Badger's earthy baritone
to sing their
benediction of
wild welcome.
And then he came.
How? As sun shines sudden through a cloud breaking blindingly!
How? As the first rays of dawn mark that moment when night becomes a new day.
How? As a scenting nose is suddenly aware of a change in the air.
He came.
More than that we will not say.
Ours alone was that privilege to see and we will guard it down the ages...
And Mary looked upon us with love
and thanked us all
and in her smile and words
we heard old Eve laugh
at last again.
And then there was noise,
and people,
so many people,
and we withdrew
as we always do
to the shadows
again.
But not before He smiled at us
a smile of long recognition
graced and grateful
both.
After the shepherds left,
and their piping drumming din
went off amongst the crowds.
After Bethlehem finally became still.
After old Joseph nodded off
to his Angeled dreams.
We were there
and came forth again
from the shadows
to dwell with them,
our new Adam and Eve,
and heard then
our Gospel
preached to us,
who are already
of His kingdom
and always were.
We made our covenant
with Him then,
to be the first apostles
of His love
and in
our being blessed
and shared with you
to remind you
of the innocence
you lost
and He renews
if you would but follow
our
wild way to
Eden's light
again.
We have been
forgotten now
as shepherds, kings
and crowds
followed,
but not by Him,
who from his mother's arms
smiled past them all at us
hiding in the shadows
there.
And we would later
meet Him
in the desert
and the garden,
there
we will be with Him
again,
for we have
our prophecies too
you know,
and tell our tales
too,
whispering
to each other
across the woods
and hills,
on this night
each year
as you toll your bells
and sing,
we look to the skies
and
remember;
we
were
there.

Christmas Blessings to you and yours this Holy Night +

(Pic is of The Christmas Star by Lynn Bywaters)

On the Edge of Waiting: A Meditation Poem for Christmas Eve, Eve.

On the Edge of Waiting.
(A Meditation Poem for Christmas Eve, Eve)

Shhh...
Come away a moment,
my friend.
Come away
from the lights,
and the crowds,
and the shops,
and the noise,
and the pressure,
and the worrries,
and the old wounds that
winter us
before our time.
Come and sit with me here.
Rest.
Just for a moment.
Let me share with you once again
what we forget in our festive
frenzy:
He is coming…
Down the long ages of despair
He comes as Hope.
Down the rough road of doubt
He comes as Faith.
Down the broken byways
of the
human heart
He comes as Love.
He is coming…
Sit with me on the edge of waiting…
Sit in sacred stillness…
Breathe the deep breath of
blessing.
You do not have to do anything.
He is coming…
Whether you are ready or not
Aware or not,
Able or not,
Present or not,
Believing or not,
He is coming…
As the sun rises,
as the moon shines,
as the tides turn,
as the stars dance,
He is coming…
So do not worry.
Let the tyranny of
tension
fall from you…
You never needed to carry it.
Let the false face of
righteous readiness to defend,
dissolve.
You never needed to wear it.
How could you ever be ready
for this?
For the first proclamation of the
Kingdom to be heard in a baby’s
cry.
Nothing is asked of you
but
to be here and now
who you are.
Truly.
Fully.
Broken?
Yes.
Weak?
Yes.
Called?
Oh yes.
He is coming…
And He is calling you to come to Him.
As He always does.
As He always will.
So, how will you greet Him,
the One who is coming?
The One who calls you,
to His crib.
(Yes, you.)
Will you prepare a place for Him?
Will you open the cave of your heart to Him?
Will you place Him in the sanctuary of your soul?
Will you lay Him upon the rough straw of your life?
Will you swaddle Him with your silence?
Will you offer Him the gentle warmth of animal breath?
Will you offer Him your love?
Or not.
He is coming…
Do not miss the moment
Of Mystery’s
mangered birth
by succumbing to
Bethlehem busyness.
No.
Become as still as a shepherd watching the flock of slumbering sheep.
Become as still as a sage watching the long dance of the stars.
Become as still as Joseph hearing Angels on the edge of dreams.
Become as still as she who is the stillpoint of love’s longing, filled with light,
and whose silence
brought forth the
Word of Love.
Be still and you will know
He is coming…
Always…
In stillness,
on the edge of waiting…
He is coming for you…
He is coming to you…
Always.
He is coming in Love.

(I wrote this last year and just discovered it has been shared over 1000 times on FB! As it seems to be something we all need to hear I'm posting it again. May its words continue to bless all who read it... Happy Christmas Eve, Eve to all)
Brother Richard

O Emmanuel: A meditation on the seventh of the Great O Antiphons of Advent.

O Emmanuel!

You who are God with us,

Come and deliver your people!

All holy one

who dwells higher

than the Cherubim,

adored by the living fire of the

Seraphim in love

so exultant it enflames all

it touches,

you who hide behind

the cloud and thunder of Sinai,

lest we would die

in awe,

descend now

and reveal at last

your face to us

our Saviour!

O Emmanuel!

Name by which

we would never

have named you,

so awesome is your mystery;

and yet, this name you choose

and place upon your

prophet who speaks it as sign

through lips of flame.

Descending into our nature

so to raise it on high;

our God above,

beyond,

before

you are,

yet now revealed as

with us

in our every moment,

as in your incarnation

eternity weds time

and heals the long broken

human heart

consecrating the cosmic 

temple anew.

O Emmanuel!

Love incarnate

and light from light!

You fill all things,

and all things 

have their being in you,

yet you choose us

for your family

and come to dwell in us

through the mystery 

of a mother’s love!

For nine moons

at play in that sacred pool,

ever unrippled 

and undisturbed,

you hallow

the waters of the womb 

again

and in its sacred darkness 

dance,

making of the one who builds you

from her own blood

and feeds you on her own milk

the first tabernacle from

which all of us 

will feed!

O Emmanuel!

Hear us on this seventh

and most sacred night,

as we complete 

the circle of 

our sacred invocations,

closing at last the wreath 

of evergreen time,

and gather once again

at star-rise to call you

from the heavens

and down the winding roads

of our long hoping

to be born in us again!

O hear our song

sung from the heart

of humbled humanity

that we, who have in you

our very God with us,

may learn the wisdom from

your prophet promised

and thrice holy mother,

to bow our heads

and enter Bethlehem’s barn

and there be with the One

who in love’s divine mystery

is always and ever

with us.

“O Emmanuel, our king and our lawgiver,

the hope of the nations and their Saviour:

Come and save us, O Lord our God!”

O King of the Nations, O Rex Gentium: A meditation on the sixth of the Great O Antiphons of Advent

O King of the Nations!

Long desired one we call to you!

Come from

your Royal Throne

and reign over us!

You who are the beginning

and the end of all;

the first principle

and the fount of all that is!

Come, we pray,

and restore the

divine order of this cosmos,

long thrown into chaos

by the discordant note

of our sin.

O King of the Nations!

Of old known by so many names

and in so many places sought!

Desired in the hearts

of all peoples, of all times

and

templed in the souls 

of all those ancient elders,

men and women of

justice,

peace,

and truth.

Tear down, then

the veils of separation

and reveal your holy name

to all,

as you did to Moses,

that from the many nations

there may be formed

one peaceful people,

one flock,

beneath the loving gaze of

the Good Shepherd.

O King of the Nations!

Come and be our cornerstone!

Take our lost

and tumbling efforts

and re-found, re-form,

our crumbling clay

in your divine matrix

that humbled,

we may stand tall again

and find our place

within your temple

as living stones

once more!

O King of the Nations!

Hear our sacred invocation

as we sing the royal hymn of the Lady,

she who is your Queen and Mother both!

Let us follow her 

in magnifying your power

in its paradox of grace!

For you,

O Conquering Messiah,

in your stabled birth

will teach us the true path

of kingship,

and bestow upon our nature

a royal dignity

never to be taken away!

So then,

may we become, again,

as once we were,

the highest gift

and twice blessed

in our being

by following your

descending

path to the lowest point

of emptiness

and there,

between the

breathing of the beasts

and the beating of a Mother’s

heart,

beneath the star-stilled sky,

and

only there,

come at last

to hear the

Angels

exult

in true royalty

revealed

as Love.

“O King of the Nationsand their desire,

the cornerstone making both one:

Come and save the human race,

which you fashioned from clay.”

O Rising Sun, O Oriens: A meditation on the fifth of the Great O Antiphons of Advent

O Rising Sun!

On the day of the deepest dark

we call you!

Come to us O promised light!

Gazing upon the eastern edge

of the world

we thrill,

as from our long benighted being

the first dayspring spark is cast,

and a red dawn heralds

a conqueror’s coming!

O Rising Sun!

You who are light from light,

scatter upon us

the uncreated light by which our dull eyes

may even now behold

the dawn of your presence!

Illume us as lanterns,

kindle us as fires,

breathe your flame upon us as beacons

in a world so cold

and a winter of the heart so dark

we oft forget the dawn that has come,

is come,

will come again,

needing our annual remembering

to rekindle our rebirth in you

O Son!

O Rising Sun!

We long for your dawn

down the dark and ancient ways of ancestry

Feeling in our old yearning

the gathering of ghostly generations

who followed their deepest knowing,

that map,

long inscribed upon the centre

of our being

but written in a sacred script

unknown to eyes lost to Eden’s light.

For they,

So desperate for the

warming of a presence

they remembered

but did not know

wrought stone,

and marked ways,

and offered song,

and told story,

and gathered green,

and even spent

blood,

to charm back an earthly sun

while truly seeking

for the Divine Son

who would warm

the winter of our heart

and make of Himself

the sacrifice that brings the light back

for an eternal day  

O Rising Sun!

We call you by our evening invocation!

Kindling our vesper candles and vigil lights,

wrapping the wreath of time

in flames of rose and purple,

we sing now the soul song of

the Lady of the Light.

She whose heart blessed beacon

shone so bright in love,

it drew you from

the realms of everlasting day

to that sealed chamber in which,

with quickening touch,

you, the dayspring and the morning star

both

bestowed your spark of glory

and found your home,

issuing forth

as Word and Light

to bestow the blessing

of a dawn from our Midwinter night,

that re-orients us to righteousness,

and reveals the Light beyond all night

Bethlehem born and blazing

as the true and victorious

Son.

"O Rising Sun!

Splendour of light eternal and sun of righteousness:

Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death!"