Raw prayer

I heard today that a local youth I knew, Peter, died on Christmas Day, aged 17. He leaves his mother, Margaret and his father, Stephen. Remember them.

And as you remember, remember this...

At the bottom of the mountain, Jesus meets a boy with epilepsy and his family (I go back ot this incident often) and the father says 'help my unbelief', as any of us might, and the mother says nothing, as any of us might, and Jesus says to the disciples 'this comes right only with prayer' and that's what any of us might discover through the Holy Spirit at the bottom of any mountain.

Dying day

Tomorrow will be my dying day:
the day before yesterday was yours.
You didn’t buy a ticket,
you didn’t book a place
and yet there you were
suddenly at the front of the queue.
Never one to push yourself forward,
you had been propelled there
by a few ill-chosen breaths.
Of course it’s all behind you now,
while we that are left grow old
and still have to face the final hurdle;
waiting for the chance to catch a note
of that endless chorus you now sing
and hoping this will not break us.

For today, God of all,
give us peace, one more time.

JAL: 27.12.2009
In memory of Peter

Today

What sort of day will it be today? There's nothing like unexpected weather to create uncertainty in Britain. Basingstoke has been particularly vulnerable to this phenomenon but there's hardly a corner of the UK untouched by it, according to the news. All this dreaming of a white Christmas that goes on year after year has suddenly become the last thing we really want for Christmas now it looks possible. So what sort of day is our Advent day today? Here's a few possible descriptions:

Present day

Advent day
Waiting day
Snowy day
Weathery day
Slipping day
Sliding day
Travelling day
Biding day
Visiting day
Minding day
Thinking day
Deciding day
Going day
Staying day
Action day
Resting day
Living day
Dying day
Present day
Emmanuel day

Janet Lees: 24.12.2009

She's a woman

If you've not already seen the poet laureate's poem for the 12 days of Christmas you must not miss it. It is at http://www.radiotimes.com/content/features/carol-ann-duffy-the-twelve-days-of-christmas/
Well done Carol Ann Duffy. It's moving, it's relevant and it's really good. I always knew we needed a woman as poet laureate.
In these snowy Huddersfield days when everything is covered in a thick blanket of white such that you can be forgiven for thinking nothing else exisits outside the warm shell you have created we need this stuff to keep us active and concious. Note the 12 drummers drumming - drumming for Cpenhagen still. If we'd gone on a few verses we might have made it to 350 ringers ringing and got further than the delegates themselves managed to.

Year of the Nurse 2010

It seems that 2010 is to be the Year of the Nurse - so says the Nightingale Declaration at http://www.nightingaledeclaration.net/.


Of course this is dear to me having been the daughter of one and th neice of another nurse. Anne, my mum (died 2007) is on the left and Betty, her sister (died 2005) is on the right. Both were nurses as you can see.

Here's a piece I wrote about them both a couple of years ago, a month after my mum's death, which is influenced by RB and the story of Martha and Mary:


Two Sisters

There were two sisters.
One was married and one was single and they lived together in the home of the married one.
One was extrovert, outgoing, practical. She would invite many people to the house, make lots of food and feed everyone. She would also help people with practical family problems in sickness and in health.
One was introvert, quiet, reflective. She would prefer to be on her own, reading a book or the paper, listening to the radio. If you asked her for help she would give it willingly; the washing or the ironing.
They seemed quite different.
They shared the same profession both being nurses, but they practiced it in different ways. One was the career nurse who had managed wards and even a whole hospital (in the days when the NHS was like that). Her quiet authority had transmitted itself to staff and patients alike. One was a nurse alongside other roles in family and community, sharing her skills and knowledge with anyone who asked, mentoring young people, supporting old ones. Her practical action helped many to cope with life’s ordinary challenges.
But they were also very similar: generous with their time and resources, they both enjoyed music and reading, and were very faithful to each other.

I knew them both and they both influenced my life. One, the practical extrovert, was my mother. The other, the reflective introvert, was my aunt. I am like them both; practical and reflective. Theirs was not a competitive relationship: there was no ‘better part’. Rather they each made a contribution to the whole of life, lived in the company of the Life Giver, each one giving what they were, wholly vulnerable.

JAL: 19.10.2007

A ringing good day

Over on Jane's blog you can read about the plan to have 350 rings, bongs, bangs or hoots tomorrow for climate change: http://stranzblog.blogspot.com/2009/12/get-ready-to-ring-church-bells-across.html

I wondered how we could do this in a small village church in the north of England, one with no bells and few people. Last night we heard the mighty Huddersfield Choral Society raise the roof of the Town Hall with thi annual Christmas concert. All the old favourites were sung and some new ones. So it made me think: they had tubular bells - we don't have any of those. They had jingle bells - the little hand held bells you had in primary school - we've got some of those!!!

So here's the jingle bells theme adpated for climate change ringers everywehre:

A ringing good day

Bells ring out
Bells ring out
Bells ring out all day
As bells ring out around the world:
Protect the world today!

Bells ring out
Are you listening?
Ring out loud
Are you listening?
We’re happy today
To worship and pray
Working for a much fairer world

Bells ring out
Bells ring out
Bells ring out all day
As bells ring out around the world:
Protect the world today!

Drums beat out
Are you listening?
Beat out loud
Are you listening?
We’ll beat a loud song
As we right the wrong
Working for a much fairer world

Bells ring out
Bells ring out
Bells ring out all day
As bells ring out around the world:
Protect the world today!

JAL: 12.12.2009
To a well known Christmas tune

Advent and sin

It seems Advent goes with sin like kippers go with custard (i.e. it's not to everyone's taste). Sin has become one of those dated words fewer and fewer ordinary people use. Maybe we can't scrap it altogether (I'm sure a bishop or two would have something to say about that) but maybe we can find some more relevant words to use. Someone I read about recently suggested 'abuse' was a good word to swap for sin. I'll think about it.

Meanwhile what about RB for Advent? There's all that exciting stuff about the end times - a bit like the far fetched plot of a dodgy video game. Then there's John the Baptist - now you're talking.

We did some RB on John the Baptist at the weekend. Some lovely things about John the Baptist have come up in RB like John being a Baptist because that's his name. Good thing he wasn't called John the United Reformer then wasn't it! But the best memory I have of John the Baptist is the tin of dried grass hoppers my mum won in a raffle when I was about 8 years old. Yes, I know he ate locqusts but they don't do them in tins it seems. This lovely unopened but fading tin of dried grasshoppers is still on my shelf to remind me of John the B and all his austere ways. I'm not sure they've not passed their sell by date but speaking personally my austerity measures only go as far as nonfat milk (that's the stuff with the red tops).

Advent days

‘Advent is not supposed to be about ‘happiness’. It is about judgement’ said the Bishop of Repton. [1] Just goes to show what he knows about it. Seems to me quite possible that this rather limited view of it has sucked quite a lot of life from Advent already. There are many different days in Advent; some happy, some less so. But let's not rule out happy days from Day 1. And as for judgement, that's something we all need to learn: to discern when and where, as the days of Advent move from one to the next, just what the possibilities might be. Here are my prayers so far for the days of Advent 2009.

Mundane day

On a mundane day it’s easy to miss the thistledown
floating by on the breeze to settle and root elsewhere.
In commonplace spaces it’s easy to overlook
the uncommon, small and rare things under stones.
In ordinary time it’s easy to forget the extraordinary,
the celebration of sunrise that lifts me.

As tiredness seeps into me
and weariness weighs me down
it’s easier to make my litany
from a limiting list of negatives
than a liberating whisper of possibilities.

In the still moment, confirm in me
the possibility and the surprise.

JAL: for 01.12.2009
altered from 07.06.2009

Happy Day

Advent God,
As we wait out these happy days
welcome us in from the drafty doorstep
of the tomb lined garden
into the warmth of your company
to share the wine of your kindom.

JAL: 02.12.2009

Round and round the park

Round and round the park,
all three or a pair:
one lap, two laps,
then smoothie we can share.

Body-wise God,
keep us moving all our days.

JAL: 03.12.2009


Slow moving sun

All hail to you, slow moving sun
symbol of creation’s energy.
All hail to you, full setting moon
making dawn so awesome.

All hail to you, slow moving One,
plodding on with us daily.
From sunrise to sunset,
moonrise to moonset,
may we be Son-wise people.

JAL: 04.12.2009

Body days

Praise God with the gurgling tummy.
Praise God with the amputated limb.
Praise God with the cleft palate.
Praise God with the deleted chromosome.
Let every impaired one praise God.

God, you know me and my impairments.
You know what I remember and what I forget.
You know what I hear and what I miss.
You know when I sing in tune and when I don’t.
You know the rhythms of my body and when I’m out of synch.
You know my anger and my anxiety,
What keeps me awake at night
And what causes me to doze off in meetings.

When I’m feeling alive
and creativity is pouring out of me,
then you dance with me.
When I’m feeling dead
and despair is seeping into me
then you curl up with me.
When anxiety freezes me
or anger makes my insides molten
you are alongside me.

As I walk round the park
You keep me company.
When I eat with friends
You break bread with us.
My breath is like a warm fog
That fills me lungs
And permeates every cell.
My skin is like a blanket,
A coat that defines
my insides and outsides.

Each cell has its role,
Its DNA, mitochondria and whatnot.
When a pain comes
Help me to respond equitably,
Accepting my body’s message
Without anger or undue anxiety.
May my breath praise you,
My heart beat for you
And my body rise to you.

JAL: 05/06.12.2009
After Psalm 139, at Gateways into Prayer.

Tree Planter

Cosmic Christ, growing up in a carpenter’s shop,
meeting you death on a cross of wood,
bless these trees, ‘whips’ they call them,
that they may shelter and feed
the birds and animals around us
and give you glory in every season.


JAL: 07.12.2009
For the trees planted at Silcoates on 05.12.2009

Dismal Day

Weep, city weep.
Weep stones and streets,
houses and alleys:
weep now.
Weep with the Weeping One.
Who knows what makes for peace?
He knows and shows
the way to peace
for this and every city.

JAL: 08.12.2009
For Luke 19 in the Yorkshire Gospels.


[1] Quoted in the Guardian, 05.12.2009

The old and the new

We did some RB with both the Old and New Testaments during our weekend on Gateways into Prayer at Offa House.

This photograph of a lovely tree from the churchyard reminded me of the Psalmist saying 'hide me in the cleft of your rock' although obviously this is a cleft of a tree but similar. We did some RB on psalms and participants had quite a lot to offer. There were bits of psalms that were important to them:

I will lift mine eyes to the hills

God is our strength and refuge

The Lord is my Shepherd

You put me together in my mother's womb

and so on....

There were also less confortable but remembered ones:

My God my God why have you forsaken me?

May the wicked perish and of course the one about dashing the babies' heads against the rocks.

Some psalms we remembered had neither negative nor positive emotions attached. These usually contained some sort of memorable image like 'the oil running down Aaron's beard'.

Then we made up some music to go with psalms both those remembered and read from print.

We also did some RB with the gospel, remembering Jesus saying 'if you have ears'. How many ears can you remember from the gospel? Don't forget the one that gets cut off in the Garden of Gethsemane. We did some 'frozen poses' to remember these stories: think of a story and then freeze yourself in a position that reminds you of part of the story - sorry no photos of this!

Walking buddies

Three of us, the Always Helpful Two, Angela and Hilary, and me, have started a walking buddies scheme the purpose of which is to get us excercising in a gently but persistent way each day. Our route takes us around the circumfrence of Greenhead Park in Huddersfield, which is one mile. We try to do it twice which makes a week worth ten miles. Not as impressive as some of Bob's daily totals, but we're getting there. Our walk is supossed to be followed by fruit smoothies as a way of increasing our 'five a day' count but so far I seem to consume more of the smoothies than the other two. My plan to day is a smoothie in a cake: a low fat recipie that includes bananas, kiwi and blackberries. It smeels yummy just now!

Anyway all this has lead to a bit of creativity as you might imagine. You might recall that I rarely do RB with the Old Testament. Well here's a change then. Remembering the sort of pattern you commonly find in what is referred to as Deutero-Isaiah - that's from about chapter 40 onwards - I wrote this piece which is all about changing our deathly habits for more life-givign ones, which seemed to be the sort of thing old D-I was on about.

The playground of possibilities

Leave the outhouse of despair,

the barren barns damp with disuse,
the convoluted corridors of conceit,

where low lighting hides the true colours.
Leave all the gapping tombs and come outside
to the playground of possibilities.
Roll in the mud if you must,

swing from the trees if you will:
slide, slip and saunter, twirl, twist and waddle,
bounce, boing and be unrestrained in embracing
the recreational potential of humanity.
Do not acquiesce, accept or agree
to be tamed into the tram lines of timidity.
See the rainbow colours of life reflected in a puddle.
Hear the symphonic cacophony of sound echo round the park.
Admire the skipping squirrel and seek to emulate her glide and verve.
You were made for this;
the spitting image of your cosmic forebear,
it is written in every cell,
and this is the playground of possibilities
so come and play today!

JAL: 01.12.2009