Sermons And Gubbins

I wrote these lyrics for a hymn for a service celebrating the Feast of the Transfiguration. It's in 7,7,7,7 meter, and would fit to the tune used for "There's a Wideness in God's Mercy". In the end, we didn't use it as a hymn for the service, but instead as prayers (changing the language to communal instead of personal). Both versions are below. It's based on a  quotation  from  Teresa of Avila . Feel free to use as a hymn or prayers if you wish! I'd love to hear about it, if you do! Hymn : The Body of Christ Where now are your hands, O my God? They are those with which I touch. They are all you have to use to heal the world you love so much. Where now are your feet, Lord Jesus? They are those with which I tread. Walk with them to take your gospel   All across the world to spread. Where now are your eyes, O my King? They are those with which I see. Open them to view your world as you yourself know it to be. Where now is your mouth, O my Lord? It is tha...

This poem was written for our monthly poetry group. The theme for this month was ‘After the Storm’. I hope you enjoy reading it! After the Storm  After the storm, we tried to clear everything up. The branch I thought so sturdy had snapped clean off. Turns out, it had died long ago.  I did not know. It smashed straight through the boundary fence;  Left it splintered and gaping. I will try to patch it up; nail on some MDF. Cover the tear. The beautiful coloured flowers in their beds are now ripped up. Uprooted, leaving only the dirt they once covered behind. And in their place, lie the contents of upturned bins; Rubbish thrown away days and weeks ago, now needing to be dealt with again. This time, more rotten, more filthy. Festering. The air is supposed to be clearer now, isn't it? The sky should be lighter. It all feels heavier than ever before. The pressure is too much to bear. Despite it all, I'll stay on my hands and knees. Mopping up the dirty rain water with yesterday...

This sermon was preached at our Sunday morning service on Sunday 9th July. The Gospel was Matthew 11:16-19,25-30 . I hope you enjoy reading it! The other week, Miriam had a play date with one of her friends from nursery. They were both so excited beforehand and really looking forward to playing together, and it gave Jen and I the opportunity to sit and talk to another couple about grown-up things rather than Fireman Sam, Ninjago or unicorn-riding mermaids. Now, any of you who have been parents to small children, or been small children yourselves will not be surprised to learn things did not go exactly to plan! Whilst Jen and I and the other couple were happily taking about work, or cars, or the situation in Ukraine (...actually, come to think of it, children might  be better at choosing conversation topics than adults after all), we heard wailing from two different corners of the house. Duly, I investigated. The problem, as it turned out, was down to the choice of game. Miriam want...

This poem was written for our monthly poetry group. The theme for July was ‘bread’ - hope you enjoy reading it! The Breadaholic We're at a five star restaurant. My menu's still unread. I'm much too full to order; I've eaten all the bread. I don't feel good next morning: Bloated and over-fed. I've cheated on the Atkins Diet, And eaten all the bread. The kids want toast for breakfast. I've got them cereal instead. I said it had all gone mouldy, But I've eaten all the bread. My wife says I've a problem. "You just can't help yourself," she said. Lunch was supposed to be bacon rolls; I've eaten all the bread. Tomorrow morning's Sunday And I've a growing sense of dread. The priest at the Eucharist will blow his top; I've eaten all the bread.

This poem was written for our third poetry group meeting (for which I was on holiday!). The theme that we were given for our poem was 'walking'. I hope you enjoy reading it!   I Would Walk  I Would Walk 500 Miles. I'd Walk Upon The Water. I'd Walk On By crooked coins 'gainst crooked stiles. I'd Walk all the way Back To Georgia. I'll take a Walk On The Wild Side. I'll Walk This Way, all afternoon. I'll Walk Like An Egyptian, with a Pharaoh's pride. I'll go Walking On The Moon. I'll walk The Long And Winding Road. I'll go Walking By The River in the pampas grass. I'll go Walking To a New Orleans zip code. I'll be Walking On, Walking On Broken Glass. I would be ever Walking On Sunshine; I'll go Walking On The Sun. I'd Walk The Wire, I'll Walk The Line.  I'll walk until my Walk Of Life is done. I'd Walk On The Ocean's deepest floor; I will walk all along the midnight zone. I'd even Walk The Dinosaur, If...

T his poem was composed for the second meeting of our poetry group. We were set the theme of 'Manchester: the place we call home'. I decided to find the most common languages spoken in our city; it is, after all, an adopted home to people from all around the world. Apologies to anyone who speaks these languages... I've made my best attempt (using Google Translate) to ensure the phrases are correct! I hope you enjoy reading it (my attempt at a phonetic translation is below the poem, including the languages for each line) Manchester یہ   شہر   ہمارا   گھر   ہے۔ هذه   المدينة   هي   بيتنا ਇਹ   ਸ਼ਹਿਰ   ਸਾਡਾ   ਘਰ   ਹੈ Magaaladani waa gurigeena 这座城市是我们的家 આ   શહેર   આપણું   ઘર   છે এই   শহর   আমাদের   বাড়ি Ev bajar mala me ye این   شهر   خانه   ماست Esta ciudad es nuestro hogar Αυτή η πόλη είναι το σπίτι μας Acest oraș este casa noastră Це місто наш дім To miasto jest naszym domem Cette vi...