Tag: Reflection

Hospitium

*St Thomas’ hospital, London with Statue of Mary Seacole by sculptor Martin Jennings in the ground of St. Thomas’s. Mary Seacole was a pioneer* *of Nursing care*. Photos by Mr G.

I wrote this poem whilst sitting in the reception area of St. Thomas’s Hospital, London, after receiving some treatment. The word ‘Hospital’ has its roots in both hospitality and the monastic word, ‘Hospitium’ the ‘guest house’ where all are treated kindly’ and with concern for their well-being. Each visitor is held and welcomed. St Benedict says that all should be greeted and cared for as if they were Jesus Christ. In different forms, this is not unlike a hospital today.

Hospitium
thoughts in a hospital reception area.

People walking with purpose,
others more hesitantly,
faces clear or blank
or etched with anxiety.
Some in uniform
wearing lanyards of authority.

Squirming children in prams
pass quiet ones, carefully steered on beds;
some in pain,
others relieved – on the way to recovery.
Elderly folk, clutching arms
or balanced on sticks,
shuffle along uncertainly.

Visitors smile and greet,
lives intertwine.
Some, sad or worried,
seek news-givers
yet fear their words.

Hustle, bustle of humanity,
hand-holding, reassuring, realistic,
caring energy – often drained in service.

All humanity is present,
represented –
ethnic beauty,
language burble,
generations and races
sharing this space of hope.

All life is gathered where people seek healing,
are held, guided, directed, hugged
by walking crosses of dedication.
All, from cleaners to consultants,
playing their part
in being Christ-bearers to others.

The gentle receptionist looks kindly on.

{Mr.G. 16th April 2024}

Mary of Magdala

Today, July 22nd, Christians celebrate the Feast of St Mary Magdale.
Here is a short reflective prayer.

Father, may we joyfully celebrate Mary Magdalene
and give thanks that you appointed her as your Apostle
in the Garden of Easter morning.
In her you kindled a fire of love for Christ,
whose word had set her free.
You gave her the courage of love
to follow him even to the cross.
Seeking her teacher after his death,
so great was her longing
that you made her the first to behold him
risen from the dead,
and the first to announce to the apostles
his new and glorious risen life.
Her words still ring throughout your Church,
to strengthen faith and encourage hope.
Stir up afresh the Good News of Jesus, our Risen Lord,
that our hearts may be filled with deep joy as we recognize him
as ‘Rabbouni’, our Lord and King.
Like Mary Magdalene may each of us tell that joy to all whose lives we touch.
In the Name of him who knows and call us by Name.
We pray this prayer.

(part of this prayer is based on the Proper Preface for the Eucharist on St. Mary Magdalene’s day)

[Mr G]

Winterscape : The hidden tree

photo: Gill Henwood

Gill has been reflecting on her photo and what it has revealed about the Conifer/Christmas tree in background.

Revelation of the tree

The ‘Christmas tree’ (see above) has been hidden within the linear wood along the lane for a century or so, quietly growing upwards. Surrounded by vigorous sycamore, oak, beech and lower wych elm, the Christmas tree has gradually, slowly, reached maturity high in the canopy.

Unnoticed by those who walk below while the deciduous trees are in full leaf, for they spread their branches and budding twig tips to catch the sun in every space, the Christmas tree has pierced through to the light, with a trunk straight and strong.

Throughout the decades, lower branches have been left behind – only the top half of the tree has needles now, the ridged bark of the trunk is bare. We have walked past, day by day, or driven up the lane, rushing past. Only now can we stop, look up and realise how our tall our Christmas conifer towers above us. Hiding in plain sight, revealed through the winter beauty of the bare skeletal trees.

We can’t reach up into our Christmas tree to decorate it with baubles and candles. No ladder or steps can scale her height. S/he stands proudly wild, independent of human intervention, glorying in natural majesty. But the frost crystals settle on her needles, and the snow dresses her branches. The little birds flit in her shelter, glimpses of red breast or blue head, flash of white wing bar or red crest – these are our tree’s lively colours, as the flocks flutter up from foraging in the fallen leaf litter below.

S/he may have cones that will catch the snow too. They are secret, only for the seed hunters to find. And if the sun shines while s/he’s decked with crystals, s/he’ll sparkle in refracted rainbow colours.

Our Christmas tree is decorated from above, through frost, snow, light, birds and the many creatures living and moving through her shelter. God’s joyous blessings, given in creation of our natural world – a world we rush through and pass by, often failing to notice until we stop, and let ourselves look up.

This Advent, may each one of us find the gift of stopping somewhere, and receive God’s blessings as our Christmas tree receives – quietly, often hidden, but courageously growing towards the light. Light of the World, revealed in the mystery of Christmas… And as I reflect, the barn owls next door are screeching as they set off in the starlit dusk to hunt through the trees down the lane. Sometimes they perch in the trees, spying movement, watching. They are rarely seen, just a white shadow when flying, but their song – a screech – tells us they’re in the trees every evening. Perhaps one of them will perch in the Christmas tree tonight, waiting for the moon to rise in the clear, freezing sky

[Gill Henwood]

Mourner’s Hope

The photograph is another taken by my friend Gill Henwood.
The rays of the sun bathing the daffodils and the graves in Colthouse Quaker Burial Ground, Cumbria, speaking to us of God’s hope, love and compassion in these dark days of personal and community sadness.

NATIONAL DAY OF REFLECTION

Today, March 23rd, we in the United KIngdom are holding a National Day of Reflection, March 23rd 2021—a year since the first Lockdown in the fight against Covid 19. This is a day to acknowledge grief and loss over the last year. It will be led by His Royal Highness, Charles, Prince of Wales. His Royal Highness said: “Whatever our faith or philosophy may be, let us take a moment together to remember those who have been lost, to give thanks for their lives, and to acknowledge the inexpressible pain of parting.

There is a call for all to take part in a minute of silence at 12 Noon, in gratitude for the devotion, kindness and care of NHS Staff and all other care workers and as a time for those who have lost loved ones , especially to COVID 19, to reflect, remember and grieve, whilst seeking the hope amidst the darkness. A hope which Christians and members of other faiths find rooted in God. It is a day which is close to Holy Week when Christians follow a yearly holy pilgrmage with Jesus to Calvary. We believe and proclaim that, in God the Father transformed earthly darkness into light; pain into joy; suffering and death into new life and He triumphed over all that is not love by God’s sacrificial, self-giving love in His Son Jesus from the Cross.

Against this background, we reflect on all that has happened since March 23rd last year whilst looking forward with renewed hope and trust to the time ahead. It is also a time when say thank you to all who gave their all in the care of others. It is also a time when we express sorrow for what as a nation and personally we didn’t do right but with a repentance that with the guidance of a greater power than frail humanity, we can get it better in the future. We dare to say, to God be the glory!

My friend, Michael Manley, Canon Missioner at Carlisle Cathedral, has written a beautiful and poignant hymn prayer which has both a personal and public context. It is a prayer which expresses both grief and hopefulness. It is deeply moving but each will make of it what they can and must. It will be sung for the first time at a Reflection Evensong in Carlisle Cathedral at 5.45pm on the 23rd and it can be accessed on Face Book – https://www.facebook.com/CarlisleCathedral/

MOURNER’S HOPE
We give them back to you O Lord
Those whom we loved – but could not hold.
We dare to trust they weren’t alone
For all are yours and all are known.
Through nursing care, we understand
You sat beside them, held their hand.
We thank you for the angels there
who day and night fulfilled our prayer:
to hear their sighs in whispered breath
and speak your peace to ease their death.
We leave them in your warm embrace
Now raised to life within your grace.
We could not mourn as others may
Nor offer all we hoped to say.
We could not gather all as one
To toast their name or sing their song.
Yet at your table now they dine
And with us join in bread and wine.

Lord help us on our lonely road
to voice the grief and share our load.
You know the pain the fear the loss:
You held our wounds upon your cross.
Then rose, still scarred, to life reborn,
In us, let hope, new purpose dawn.
We give them back to you and trust
Your love that gave them each to us.
You did not lose them when they came
Nor we, in letting go again.
Help us to see we’re all but one
that death’s defeated, love has won.
Creator, Spirit, Word made flesh
In you   is life, and all is blest.
Receive our prayer and bring us home
By love transformed, your image own,
With all your saints who’ve gone before
To worship you for evermore.

It can be sung to the tune Melita (Eternal Father, strong to save), or Surrey