This Space

‘life and all this living’

I’ve been dipping in to Pádraig Ó Tuama‘s book, Readings from the Book of Exile. Something in this stanza from his poem, And even though you do not know your name, draws me back to this long-neglected blog space:

This space is yours,
whatever it is called,
named by life and all this living,
and all the best things that regret can bring
and all the hope you muster.

Pádraig Ó Tuama, And even though you do not know your name in Readings from the Book of Exile

I’m not making any promises, but enough of regret – life, and all this living, and hope remains.

Should We Call Him, King?

I was recently introduced to the practice of writing 50-word stories (not more, not less!) in response to a scripture passage. So, I’m giving it a go! (perhaps you might like to try writing your own!)

Here is my 50-word story response to the lectionary gospel reading this week – John 18:33-37 “So you are a king?” (v.37):

Should we call him king, this Jesus? Why did he decline to answer Pilate’s question; it seems straightforward enough.

What is this other-worldly kingdom that his followers don’t need to defend? What is this truth heard only by those who listen? I get that Pilate was perplexed. I am too.

Georges Rouault, Christ condemned by Pilate, wood engraving, 1939








Giver of Beauty and Joy

I posted this on facebook this week:

 

Anne has brought these to share with the women gathered for the Tuesday afternoon knitting group at Airport West Uniting Church. She’s picked them today; at the moment, she’s picking this many EVERY DAY. She gives them to everyone she knows; beautiful giver of beauty and joy.

 

It’s the post I’ve received the most feedback from this week, which tells me we’re all craving for something beautiful.

I’ve got a bunch of them in a vase in my living room, they’re filling the room with a heady scent and serving as a sweet-smelling sacrifice to our need for beauty.

let’s all be on the lookout to find ways to be givers of beauty and joy in a world with too much ugliness and hate.








Supernova and Spirit Sightings

(ABC News: Michael Black)

 

This week, ABC TV has televised Stargazing Live across three nights (the third episode will screen tonight). Thousands of ‘citizen scientists’, viewers on the first night, supplied ‘1 million new data points in a matter of hours, helping to classify 18,000 images from the Skymapper telescope at the Siding Spring observatory. Four of those participants identified a flash of light emitted from a galaxy 1.1 billion light years away.’

 

Astronomers examined the data from these four and were able to confirm on the next night’s show that they’d discovered a new supernova, an exploding star. It was ‘ridiculously exciting’, said one. Show presenter, Brian Cox, commented:

“1.1 billion light years means exactly that,

“When that star exploded, there were no living things beyond the ocean on the Earth.

“The light was almost here when humans evolved — and it was very nearly here when we began to do astronomy.

“Then we invented television, and eventually we made a television show … and ABC viewers saw it last night.

If it’d happened a week later, we’d never have seen it.”

The italics above are mine; I confess that I didn’t see it, because I didn’t look – I haven’t watched the show over the last two nights, even though last night, I did seen a news item informing me about the possibility of the discovery of the supernova.

I sometimes check in with a web-page called Spirit Sightings, where the authors reflect on current affairs in the light of the Lectionary readings. When I read about the supernova this morning, I couldn’t help but reflect on Cox’s comments in the light of this week’s readings – the writers all talk about God and Spirit in the light of what they know and understand. Isaiah, moved by the death of a king, ‘saw the Lord’, David saw and heard God in the natural world around him, and Jesus saw the Spirit in the wind.

Spirit-Sightings occur in the stuff of our lives; we see God when look at our world, listen to the news, reflect on what’s happening. And sometimes, it’s ridiculously exciting.