Category Archives: Holy Days

Shrive vs shrivel

Write me the script for a new heart, O God; 
scratch out a new and shriven, 
unshrivelled spirit within me.  Continue reading

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(Holy Saturday)

How to carry the world’s pain – the cries of the children, the palsy of their great-grandparents confused with the tremors of memory; the subtle, internal turmoil that turns digestion upside down – violence is not a visitor but an … Continue reading

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A Song of Anna

What would it sound like, what would it feel like, if we had Anna’s song, too, to sing as our prayers rise like incense at the end of the day? Continue reading

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The gifts of the wise ones

The Feast of the Epiphany is a new year of sorts for us, the people of Epiphany. Who knows what this one will bring. But if we are able to keep our hearts and minds and expectations open; if we deploy the gifts of humility, creativity, faith that the magi, the wise ones have taught us, then we may find unexpected grace, unlooked-for epiphanies, the glory of God waiting for us to stumble upon it as the year takes shape, growing like a child, full of curiosity, wonder, and delight.  Continue reading

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When worlds collide

Today, while our church celebrates and ruminates on the revelation of Christ to the nations – the arrival of the magi at the manger and their joyful homage to the child they recognized as the saviour of the world – the news cycle is full of analysis, unresolved shock, and grief over what happened and what so nearly happened to our nation a year ago today. Continue reading

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By another road

It was not the journeya wise person would have plannedwith toddlers in tow, wakenedby the stuttering motion of a carstuck in traffic,jammed in their seats while the worldhemmed us in behind and before,each shining roof the baked tileshell of a … Continue reading

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Holy Innocents: transferred

There must have been others who retracedtheir ancestors’ footprints over Sinai,although no Moses basket launched upon the Nile;instead, the Innocents wakened from a nightmareby the whisper of a blade, the fadingmemory of mothers’ final, ululating lullaby… Innocence today plays with … Continue reading

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Holy Innocents: a pieta

The stoles are cobbled together from whatever orange fabric I can lay my hands on in any given season; the constant that binds them together as a family – except for the orange colour – is the children’s handprint pattern that finishes each one off at the ends… Continue reading

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Word, wordless

A brief message for Christmas Day If, like me, you have memories from long before you learned how to talk, then you know that even before it speaks an infant tells itself stories and lays them down, woven into the … Continue reading

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Emmanuel

Emmanuel Away from the crush of the crowd and the hubbub of the inn, aside in the stableChrist is born;in the silence that prepares for his first breath,God speaks: “I am with you.”

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