Tag: Jesus

The Windflower speaks to us of change.

Windflowers photographed in the Lake District by Gill Henwood.
Anemone or the windflower. Its name comes from the Greek word ánemos, meaning “wind.”


The Wood Anemone (a.k.a. Windflower),Opens to herald the Spring equinox, the turning of the season from dark to light. This is the time of renewed hope for the world through the Easter journey of Jesus. This journey began when the Angel Gabriel visited God’s chosen Christ-bearer, Mary of Nazareth, in the event the Christian church celebrated earlier this week – The annunciation.
It was a momentous encounter. A new beginning. One which Jesus brought to us from God. It was a journey filled with joy, challenge and a ‘Word’ crafted in the heart of heaven and delivered to us as the Good News (Gospel). This ‘Word’ of God’s supreme and total Love for us and all who inhabit the earth, was not only spoken. It was ‘lived’ by Jesus at the very centre of his being because it is what defines him. He knew the power of darkness and unlove and he entered into the darkness and struggles of human life. He also knew what overcomes it. Sheer love of God which St John reminds us, at the beginning of his Gospel account, is the Light shining in darkness and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1: v5). Nor can it do so.

Even when the darkness tried to destroy Jesus on the Cross, on Good Friday, it failed because in the Crucifixion of Jesus we see and know and inherit the immense and unquenchable Love of God.   That love will prevail and has continued to do so over two thousand centuries. We have to accept and receive it and be changed by it.
In these globally dark days where some of our number are trying to have absolute power over us and many lives are being destroyed by war or through pain inflicted on them, we need to remind ourselves that it is God who will prevail. He arms us, who are his friends on earth, with simple armour – His Love.  The more we use it, the more hatred and misuse of power will be challenged and will not prevail.

The Windflower tells us the time is coming, the wind of the Spirit is rustling away the winter and soon the Light of the World will shine. The little flower has endured the darkness of Winter but it has prevailed. May that be a message to all of us whatever we believe. We conquer evil with love. There is no other way.
 
 
[Mr G with inspiration and contribution from Gill Henwood]








An angel called my name

Joseph’s dream. Vatican news.
Copyright © 2017-2025 Dicasterium pro Communicatione – All rights reserved.

On March 19th, the Church remembered St. Joseph, husband to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Though often rather like the ‘man in background’, Joseph played a vital and significant role in the birth of Jesus and did so in obedience to the will of God.
God communicated that will through the message of an angel and did so on 4 occasions. These dreams are all narrated by the writer of St. Matthew’s Gospel. (Chapter 1 verse 18ff, and Chapter 2)
In the first dream the angel assures Joseph that, despite his misgivings, it is God who has chosen him to be Mary’s husband and watch over her as she is pregnant with the son of God, Jesus. He is to be the protector, guide and provider of love and security to the Holy Family, to Jesus in his infancy.

The other dreams are instructions from God. In the 2nd dream, Joseph is warned to flee with Mary and Jesus when King Herod ordered the massacre of the innocent babies and young children in order to do away with the one who might be a threat to Herod’s kingdom. Joseph flees to Egypt. The third dream tells Joseph that Herod’s death means it is safe to return home but the 4th dream tells Joseph that there is still some possibility of harm so Joseph must avoid Judea and settle instead in Galilee.

Taking the theme of the first dream, a friend wrote a poem which she gave to me as a special gift. I have her permission to make it known to others, so here it is.

Joseph’s Carol ~ An Angel called my name

Blessed am I, blessed of all men.
When dark had quenched the light of day
A holy angel came; an angel called my name
I am not good, not free from sin,
Yet, as I slept and dreaming lay
An angel called my name.

A simple artisan, someone
Of humble birth, thinks not to see
A holy angel bright. An angel came that night
Through cool moonlight to sleeping world,
From cloud-streaked sky to speak to me,
An angel came that night.

Though humble, yet I count as one
Whose lineage of David came.
The angel seemed so near: the angel voice was clear:
“And Mary shall bring forth a Son.
God wills that Jesus be his name”
The angel voice was clear.

And when that Holy Child was born,
In Bethlehem, of David’s line,
The angels came to see. The angel melody
the dark sky filled. So from that dawn
I played my part in God’s design.
Oh God. My thanks to Thee.

(by Julia Edmonds)

[Mr G]

The whole earth cries ‘Glory!’

Double rainbow, Hawkshead. Photo by Gill Henwood

My friend Gill Henwood sent me this photograph today of a double rainbow over Hawkshead in the Lake District.
It brought to mind a Lenten Prayer which tells of the mystery of God and the revelation of creative power. The rainbow is an amazing example of that! There is another message which is pertinent to the season of Lent which is a contrasting of the beautiful awakening of Spring and the celebration of new life with the negativity of human life right now.
Though we are a key part of creation (though by no means all of it!), there is a wonder and breathtaking beauty all around us of which we could so easily miss. It is only when we recognize and pay homage to God our creator that the hope of the earth springing to vibrant life becomes new joy for us. The darkness of human deeds is eclipsed when we put our trust and faith in God who re-creates us and the whole world, from within.The whole earth cries ‘Glory!’ We are bidden to join in.

The prayer-poem is by Ruth Burgess and Chris Polhill from their collection of Lent and Easter resources, ‘Eggs and Ashes’, published by Wild Goose Publications (Iona)

[Mr G}

Mysterious God,
morning, noon and night reveal your creative power;
around us the whole earth cries glory.
Your presence beats in our blood, children of creation!
Yet we go on our way, deaf to the larks above the track,
looking down into the mud and not up into the clear sky.
And even then, we miss the myriad small signs of hope:
the crocus opening its heart to the sun,
colours of sea-washed stones, rainbows in the midst.
we despair so easily.
We say: ‘where is God in all this?’
and we deny it has any meaning.
We say: ‘God is dead.’
We cannot find or feel the pulse of your life in us.
We put our shaky faith in things we have made,
we give cringing power to the institutions.
we give up on ourselves, saying ‘We are no good’.
we live in ways that says: ‘There is no God.’
And the song of creation turns to dust and ashes on our lips.
Forgive us.
Dust we are – and to dust we shall return.

But, in Jesus, you chose to share our human frailty,
to enter into our mortality in all its mystery,
to redeem this handful of dust.
We are yours – and to you we shall return.
Amen.

~ Ruth Burgess & Chris Polhill ~

Crocus at No.18. Photo: Mr G

{Wild Goose Publications give permission for non-commercial use of material from
Eggs & Ashes’, copyright Ruth Burgess & Chris Polhill.
The full collection together with many other excellent resources and publications
are available from Wild Goose Publications, the publishing arm of the Iona Community.
Please visit their website for further details.]

Salvation ~ a Candlemas tale

SALVATION ~ a Candlemas tale.

[St Luke 2:28-40]

Joshua and I, Ahuz*, are doorkeepers of the Temple.
We greet people and try to make them welcome.
There are visitors and strangers and, of course, we have our regulars.
Like that old man over by the corner of sacrifice.
We don’t know where he lives but it must be nearby.
He’s always here as soon as the doors are open.

Then there’s Anna who seems to live in the Temple, in a dark, quiet place.
We know her because she has good connections.
She comes from the tribe of Asher and she’s the daughter of Phanuel and she’s a prophet, they say.

We’ve found out that the old man is called Simeon.
He has a stillness about him which suggests that he’s a man of prayer.
He behaves as if he loves God, which is more than most who come here!
Others are more like politicians, self-seekers, people who believe not in God but in their own religious importance.

Old Simeon has just noticed me and he smiles and bows towards me, making me feel human, wanted, needed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the daughter of Phanuel who comes and grasps my cold hands and rubs them warm. It’s a kind gesture of gratitude for letting her wait.

I don’t really know what they are both waiting for but there is always an expectation about them.
I once asked the old man, Simeon, “What are you doing here? What are you waiting for?”
“Salvation”, he said quietly, “and a peaceful death.”

‘Salvation’, isn’t a word we hear in the Temple these days!
That’s what Joshua said, when I told him. “I reckon they’re on a fool’s errand.”
“Maybe”, I tell him, “but I’m not so sure. There’s a holiness about him and Anna, too. There’s wisdom as well, without any trace of self-boasting. They know things we don’t.”
Joshua laughed. “I’ve told you, they’re wasting precious time. They haven’t much left.”

Then, it happened. A young woman and a caring man came into the Temple, carrying a little vulnerable baby.  Purification. It’s like a thanksgiving after childbirth and an act of dedication.
So they made their offering to God and then Simeon shuffled to stand next to them. Anna drew near as well. Interesting! Is this what they were waiting for? Odd, though. How could a baby bring Salvation and hope?

Simeon took the child into his arms and praised God.
I quietly moved towards them, just as the old man began to speak.  “…let me go in peace…I have seen your Salvation…” Love shone in his eyes and in Anna, too.
I couldn’t make sense of it. How could a mere child be God’s fulfilment?
Simeon spoke again of the child, who would be God’s light not only to us, the Jewish people, but also to Gentiles – non-Jews.
You could see that the young couple were as perplexed as I was, but there was more. It was like a prophecy, about a future event, something about conflict the child would cause, some choosing for him, others against him. He would see into every heart; speaking of which, the young lady would also have her heart pierced as if by a sword. It would, without doubt, be a sword of pain and sadness but she seemed to smile a little as if she knew something we didn’t.
Why didn’t Simeon’s word worry her? Nothing would break up her serenity. It was as if she already seemed to live with God.

Then Anna took the child from Simeon’s hands and held him close, cherishing the one of  whom the prophets had spoken. They called him ‘The Messiah’ but this child was called, Jesus.
Where they the same? Was he the one for whom, in the depths of all our hearts we too have been waiting?

For a moment, as we all stood facing the child, the Temple was filled with silence, but it was such a stillness that it felt as though it trembled with the very breath of God.

Salvation had come to the Temple that day. I, Ahuv*, found it in that little child and, like myriads who came to recognize him, I was changed and loved and saved!

[Mr G. Candlemass 2025]

*Ahuv translates as “being loved” or “beloved.” The word ahuv comes from the Hebrew root aleph-hei-vet, which means, “to love.”