Cloth Chatter – Easter Triduum Weaving

 

Cloth Chatter – Easter Triduum Weaving

More reflections for Christians beginning the weeks of Easter.

(i)

His undergarment was seamless, so they cast lots for it (John 19:23-24)

I was fashioned to fit

My warp and weft

Wound in ways

To clothe the person.

The cloth maketh for the man.

I held his outer robes

And moved

With his healing hands.

I was a one-person piece

And they cast lots

For me

Like a commodity on the market.

 

(ii)

The veil in the Temple was torn in two (Luke 23:45)

I hung upon the threshold

Like a garment gathering greatness

A robe for the holiest place

Where God’s word reached

Human words

And was kept.

I held the holy in

And halted the passage

Of peoples coming into this sanctuary space.

At the Saviour’s final breath

I broke

In two

Both adorning the sanctuary

And opening

Like two arms

To welcome people into the holy.

No more a barrier

For the Saviour’s passing over

And now an entry point

For human

And divine.

 

(iii)

Saw the linen cloths on the ground, and also the cloth that had been over his head (John 20:6-7)

We held the battered body

One that had fashioned furniture

Fished with fisher disciples

Healed the sick

Broken bread and

Passed the cup.

We lined the lifeless body

In the cool, dark tomb

Holding the oils and spices

Upon the fragile flesh.

Now discarded

We are

On the ground

Back down to earth

Our role complete

We are now

A notion towards a mystery:

“Where is the Lord?”

 

(iv)

Do not cling to me (John 20:17)

I felt her touch

Urgent and inquisitive

Wondering

“Is it true?”

“Is it you, O Lord?”

As I held him in his new life

There was a quickening

So new

He was very alive

And love

Emanated from he

To her

And from her

As she ran

To share.

 

 

Simon C.J. Falk 20 April 2019

 

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More good news on the #WATWB coming soon

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I Couldn’t Go to Jerusalem or Good Friday

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I Couldn’t Go to Jerusalem or Good Friday

For Christians, Good Friday is a day to remember a life lived, and given away for others, even in suffering. This is for those who want to remember, but are not able to join others in Churches.

I couldn’t go to Jerusalem –

My mother-in-law just

Died

And we are mourning as

Burial is prepared.

 

I couldn’t go to Good Friday –

I’m a nurse

But

I saw the arms of the cross

In the open arms

Of a man

Reaching from the chair

As I moved him

To his bed.

 

I couldn’t go to Good Friday –

I’m at Lifeline

Taking calls

But

I heard the cry

“My God, why have you abandoned me!”

In the tone of a caller

Still reeling from abuse

By one once trusted.

 

I couldn’t go to Good Friday –

I’m old and

My days of driving

Are in the yesterdays of my life.

Family staying here

Won’t take me to Church

It means nothing to them

I wait in the

Tomb of my gloom

Longing to be

Raised to a new life.

 

They couldn’t go to Good Friday –

But we bring them there

If we go

And hold them there in prayer.

 

 

Simon C.J. Falk 19 April 2019

 

Casting For Laws

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Casting for Laws

Another reading of John 8:1-11

 

Casting stones

And aspersions

He said

I thought

He said

Nasturtiums

Anyway

There was this lady

Supposed adulteress

They were to stone her

Where was the bloke?

Or blokes?

How inconceivable

That so called

‘Civilisations’ have

Bad laws!

Perhaps

Some still do?

 

Simon C.J. Falk 7 April 2019

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Her Name is not Spoken But her Face is Seen

 

Her Name is Not Spoken But her Face is Seen

A reading on John 8:1-11

 

I cast a stone but

It ricocheted back

To me

In her plight I saw

I was not

Free.

In my grasping, accusing

Tone

Did I not notice the sin

Was not her’s alone?

But my vile need

For adulation

From the mob.

Her name was not

Spoken

Yet her face seemed to say:

My name was not called

As they allow me no dignity

Let alone integrity.

But my face

Is known

It is seen in many

A place, or stage

And age

Where nameless women

Are objectified and tried

By the menacing mob

Ironically lustful

For their own ends.

Who can cast a stone?

It comes back

To stony hearts

That know not they are flesh.

 

 

 Simon C.J. Falk 6 April 2019


Don’t forget to follow the good stories on #WATWB

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I Dreamed An Angel of Light

I Dreamed An Angel of Light

For Christchurch, NZ and too many others

I dreamed

An Angel of Light

Came down in the

Silence

Of the still dawn.

It gathered up

And held

The fallen

Close

To its bosom

And then rose

On great wings

To soar like eagles

Bringing them to

Eternal light and peace.

 

Simon C.J. Falk 18 March 2019

 

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Some bloggers spread STORIES OF LIGHT & PEACE on the final Friday of each month. Follow the hashtag #WATWB on social media.

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A Collective Noun For Cranes

A Collective Noun for Cranes

A collective noun for cranes

Is?

No matter

But, assert themselves they do

Erect and in

Full view

Of me and you.

Clanging and clambering about

We hear a shout!

Of riggers at their toil.

So many of our dwellings now

Are assembled by these cranes

They rise above our plains

Monuments to man-made cities.

But, nature is still here

Pooling lest we fear

That we are left

To our constructions

Alone

And think that our world begins

And ends

With us

Alone.

A collective noun for cranes

Could be

Waterbirds

By a pool

Lest we fool

Ourselves

That nature

Excludes

Us.

Simon C.J. Falk 25 February 2019

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This blog also supports two initiatives

The We Are The World Blogfest – follow #WATWB

and

Project WHY in New Delphi, link here.

 

 

#WATWB February 2019 – Animals and Autism

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PHOTO: Jim Brownlie manages the farm south of Perth. (ABC Radio Perth: Kate Leaver)

Welcome to #WATWB for February 2019.  Please visit the posts of our valiant co-hosts
Sylvia McGrath,
Peter Nena,
Shilpa Garg,
Inderpreet Uppal,
and Belinda Witzenhausen.

As with other months, we are here to bring some good news on the final Friday of each month.

So… what about baby animals and autism?  Enter the good news tab that the Australian ABC News network now carries on their website.  There you will find stories like….

Miniature farm animals are being used to provide respite and support to children and teenagers with autism.

INKA respite farm stay at Lake Clifton, 110 kilometres south of Perth, is home to the fun-size animals including pigs, sheep, goats and horses.

Groups of children and teenagers with autism bunk at the homestead and work together to care for each other and the animals.

Let’s also hear from the Farm Manager, Jim Brownlie.

Mr Brownlie said some of the guests were highly autistic and did not cope well in high-pressure environments.

“When we see signs [of difficulty], we try to get them outside, and as soon as we get them down beside the animals, it just seems to calm them down,” he said.

He added that

there had been a high demand for the pigs as pets in recent years and saw them as a suitable alternative to a domestic dog or cat.

“They’re intelligent, they have the IQ of a three-year-old, and they’re very easy to train.

So, you say, what about hearing from a visitor to the farm?

Twenty-year old Tom Lean is autistic and said the farm had become a second home.

“I love it because I’m out of the city,” he said.

“My family has farms so I’ve always been a farm person — I feel more relaxed, I don’t get annoyed as much.

You can read more in the article and watch a short video here.  INKA Respite Farm have their own website and blog too.

 

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PHOTO: A newborn mini-pig at INKA Respite in Lake Clifton, which are sold to make money for the centre. (ABC South West: Michael Black) 

Now, a little from verse about a special animal that floats and soars by Mary Oliver

The Swan: by Mary Oliver

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air –
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music – like the rain pelting the trees – like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?

More of the poem here.  Many thanks to the late Mary Oliver  (1935-2019).


Please follow other blogs and social media posts with the #WATWB.  For more information visit this link.