Divine Mercy Sunday

Meditation for Divine Mercy Sunday: the Octave of Easter

I saw water flowing from the right side of the temple... and all they to whom the water came were saved! (Cf: Ez:47)

A mystic moment captured some time ago courtesy of beautiful stained glass and Brother Sun being in the right place at the right time... a wonderful reminder of the grace and mercy that flows infinitely and unconditionally from the pierced heart of Christ... and that the whole cosmos is teaching us constantly if we are just aware enough, pause long enough, become still enough to notice.

Then we will see that to drink of this water, to be washed in it, to dwell within it as a fish dwells in the flow of the river this is the deepest longing of our hearts and souls as the ancient Easter Chant recalls: 

Vidi aquam egrediéntem de templo, a látere dextro, allelúia: et omnes ad quos pervénit aqua ista salvi facti sunt et dicent: allelúia, allelúia.

Confitémini Dómino, quóniam bonus: quóniam in sæculum misericórdia ejus.

P.  Glória Patri, et Fílio, et Spirítui Sancto.

S.  Sicut erat in princípio, et nunc, et semper, et in sæcula sæculórum. Amen.

Vidi aquam egrediéntem de templo, a látere dextro, allelúia: et omnes ad quos pervénit aqua ista salvi facti sunt et dicent: allelúia, allelúia.

Here it is in English:

I saw water flowing from the right side of the temple, alleluia; and all they to whom that water came were saved, and they shall say, alleluia, alleluia.

Praise the Lord, for He is good; for His mercy endureth forever. [Psalm 117].

P.  Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.

S.  As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

I saw water flowing from the right side of the temple, alleluia; and all they to whom that water came were saved, and they shall say, alleluia, alleluia.

Meditation poem for Easter Saturday

                  Meditation poem for Easter Saturday:

Climb

We stand 

as they did,

in these days,

illumined by 

fiery alleluias 

at His appearing,

yet often 

hesitant 

to bow;

our pilgrim walk 

staggered,

slipping back 

among the 

sin scree

of self 

when we 

take our

inner eye 

from 

His graced 

gaze

and lose 

our way

forgetting that 

our attaining of

the summit of 

the Holy Mountain

is, in Him,

already done,

and we ascend

in He who 

meets us 

at our lowest,

as Shepherd King,

as one who seeks,

and finds,

and carries 

home,

all that is 

lost 

in us

Beach Breakfast; a meditation poem for Easter Friday

 Meditation poem for Easter Friday:

Beach Breakfast.

This morning,

at the 

turning 

of the 

tide of night

into the 

blue 

of the

new 

day,

we sat with 

God.

Not doing 

anything.

Not saying 

anything.

Just sitting

on the beach

of being,

while all around 

us

darkness dissolved

into dawn,

and the 

waking birds 

sang

their psalms

of daily

astonishment

at the gift

of 

beginning,

again.

Then,

we ate and drank

God

for 

breakfast.

For what 

else 

would you 

call

the first meal 

of 

the day?

Breakfast

or

Eucharist;

whatever you 

call it,

it happened,

happens,

will happen,

every 

morning.

We gather.

We sit.

We offer.

We receive,

and we are 

received.

We consume

and,

slowly,

over a lifetime 

of 

mornings,

we are

consumed,

until only

God

is seen,

and we see

only

God.

For

we become

what

we eat.

Don't we?

Then,

after breakfast,

we tumble

into the day

touching

both 

its order

and 

its chaos

and

knowing both 

as gift,

as blessing,

as beloved,

as grace.

Beholding 

above the 

head of each

and all

we meet,

a flame,

a spark,

of burning bush

beauty,

perhaps forgotten,

or even

unnoticed,

by inner eyes

long used to

downcast

distraction.

So we,

food fueled

and breakfast

blessed,

will

touch

a passing 

shoulder,

or elbow

and 

in the moment 

of their startled

stillness,

smile at their

old young

heart

waking to its

reflected

beauty

as we offer 

His 

ancient

invitation

to the beach

of being:

"Come 

and have 

breakfast."

(Written 2019)

The Art of Resurrection: A meditation poem for Easter Thursday

 The Art of Resurrection 

How is 

it

possible

not to

believe in 

Resurrection;

when daily

it is

accomplished 

around

you?

When from

sleep's 

dark

and purple

night

the Divine 

rhythm

so long laid 

down

pulses playing

and

form is freed

while

colour

washes

the sky

clean

and

the 

birds 

sing their

holy astonishment

at seeing

the

light

again

for 

one more

day.

Where 

were 

you

then,

this dawning

when

the daily 

Easter

exultet took

place?

To what noise 

were your ears 

tuned?

To what sights 

your eyes?

Did you 

begin

with faith in 

the

beauty 

that awaited 

you 

beyond 

the door

of your 

snoozing senses;

or did 

you 

soldier slumber 

at the 

tomb of 

your yesterdays

unwilling 

to have

your gaze 

lifted

to sky's summoning

to a

new

start?

No matter,

this 

miracle awaits 

you,

every day,

with 

divine patience.

Come then

and join the 

dawn chorus

of delight

and allow 

sun, 

and sky, 

and sea;

bird, 

and bush, 

and beast

to teach you

the ancient 

wild resurrection 

art

of 

blessed

beginning.

Emmaus Firewalk: a meditation poem for Easter Wednesday

 Meditation Poem Easter Wednesday: The walk to Emmaus:

Emmaus Firewalk 

We forget the onceness of it all,

His isness the ever present 

Presence joining them 

And us along the way of grief.

The dry tinder of their walking hearts

Long drained of ease of tears

Seeking the relief of action and escape

Become a conflagration now of single word spark made

The hidden One who walked with them 

Who broke their bread to mend their hearts

Was even then appearing to women, apostles, poor lost Peter

Resurrection broke not just the tomb but time itself

Unleashed eternity upon an unsuspecting world

His wounds the unwinding backwards 

Of the tight twine of history’s binding 

While resurrection power handfasts 

Us all the more to blessedness

All while assuring futures of us yet unborn and unthought-of

Seeing us and seeing them and all who were and would be

In one simple moment of love in one always open eye

Lamb and Ram and Scapegoat all at once He is

We tell our tales of this and this and this

Our Gospels bound by time and place our stories

Reach from once upon to ever after with quest between

Yet all that happened on that morn was then 

at once, and ever after both

Flamed and fired and formed anew our history 

In the cracked kiln of His heart

And that is really now, and here, 

So come now upon this dusty road 

Where deep looking you will see 

Flaming footprints at your side

A burning in your heart

as the bread of moments breaks

in Holed and holy hands

As you Emmaus walk with me 

Easter Wednesday 

Weds 15th 2020

Meditation for Easter Tuesday: Mary Magdalene and the stages of Contemplative Prayer

 A meditation for Easter Tuesday:

(I first wrote this some time ago but thought it might be worth a repost for  today’s Gospel reading of the Risen Christ meeting with St. Mary Magdalene)

St. Mary Magdalene as a model of the stages of Contemplative Prayer:

She is the Apostle to the Apostles and the first public witness to the Resurrection of the Lord. In the tenacity of her faith she is the perfect example of the Christian Contemplative who in standing by the Cross first loses themsleves in the apparent defeat of the inner death of spiritual emptiness but nontheless keeps faith with Christ throughout the experience, until the moment of dawn arrives and with it her moment of renewed calling by name by the Risen One. 

Mary passes through the three stages of the Meditative life in those hours... in sitting by the tomb weeping she has passed through the purgative gate. (The gate of inner conversion) 

In looking into the tomb and beholding the presence of the Angels she has passed through the illuminative gate. (The gate of awareness of the Divine Light) 

Finally by persevering in vigilence until she hears her name called again she enters the gate of unitive love with the Risen Lord and so receives her mission to announce His Resurrection.... 

Let us pray to her that she may intercede for us that we too will persevere in prayer even before the empty tombs of our lives until we hear the Lord call us by name and we are able to answer Rabbouni... 

Master...

Light: A meditation poem for Easter Monday

 A meditation poem for Easter Monday:

Light

Today

I choose

to stand 

in the light 

of the 

Resurrection;

to recognise 

the luminosity

of Divine Presence

at the heart 

of every being;

to see,

to hear,

to touch,

to taste,

the 

eternal alleluia

that exists 

in the centre 

of it all,

perfuming 

all creation

with the 

dew dawn

scent 

of the 

garden

that 

first felt

His quickening,

His blessed breath,

His first footsteps

of return

and trembled 

at His 

healing touch,

consecrating 

Mother earth

again anew

as holy.

Today 

I choose

to recognise

the light of 

that morning's

divine dawn 

in

every sunbeam,

moon beam,

in the glint 

upon 

the water's 

edge,

glitter fire's 

spark

ensouled 

within 

your eye,

in the iridescent 

sheen

of a crow's 

dark clothes 

and the flicker of 

a rainbow 

revealed in 

fish scales 

and finch flight.

Today

I choose 

to live

in the

bright

green field

of His Love,

to walk

in the scarlet tread

of our Fisherking's

steps

finding in you

and in all

I meet

upon the road

the burning

heart,

the broken bread

of presence,

peace,

and ever beginning

Love.

Today,

I choose

to live 

the exultation

of Easter;

to stand 

against 

all that betrays 

the blessing

sung once, 

over and in 

all that is 

in the first 

moment 

of creation,

sung twice 

in the 

moment 

of His

return,

a refrain of 

resurrection

sounding the 

depths,

vibrating in the 

air, 

in birdsong, 

and breeze, 

and breath,

and being,

revealed in His

making, 

and unmaking,

and remaking

of all

as,

Ah,

an Alleluia!

Pic is of one of the great windows of Glastonbury Abbey.