Word in the Hand

John 10:27-30 Jesus said: ‘The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me. I give them eternal life; they will never be lost and no one will ever steal them from me. The Father who gave them to me is greater than anyone, and no one can steal from the Father. The Father and I are one.’ 'The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice;’ The image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd is one that we have all found easy to relate to from our earliest years. In fact the very first ‘artist’s impression’ of Jesus is though to be an early Roman wall painting of a young man with a sheep held safely on his shoulders. From our earliest years the pastoral style of the Children’s Bible illustration has given us this lovely, warm image; an image of comfort and protection; the gentle Jesus, meek and mild. Except that now we know, that the shepherd is not who we used to think he was. Shepherds in the time of Jesus were thugs with a day job. They were hard, itinerant men with...

Mary Magdalen I’ve been watching your men, Peter. Chattering like rooks in their bell towers; Covetous of their traditions, their status quo. Sending us back to the kitchen and bedroom yet again. What dogma did they use this time? Which chapter and verse? The only time I ever saw the Master write Was in the sand at a woman’s feet And that was swept away by His Word. There were always women, Peter; Uncompromising, bleeding, sinful women. Causing embarrassment even then. You may have been the first chosen But we were never an afterthought. We sat at the Master’s feet Spoke the words of faith, Loved without compromise, Believed without proof. It wasn’t only you He sent out And it wasn’t only you that came back. And I know you remember When the time came, where were the men? Where were you? Who walked the Via Dolorosa at the end? Who cradled the Child of Light in the bloody mire of Calvary? Who were His witnesses? He has forgiven you, Peter. But you have forgotten us. Remember He loves us ...

John 21:1-14 Jesus showed himself again to the disciples. It was by the Sea of Tiberias, and it happened like this: Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee and two more of his disciples were together. Simon Peter said, ‘I’m going fishing.’ They replied, ‘We’ll come with you.’ They went out and got into the boat but caught nothing that night. It was light by now and there stood Jesus on the shore, though the disciples did not realise that it was Jesus. Jesus called out, ‘Have you caught anything, friends?’ And when they answered, ‘No’, he said, ‘Throw the net out to starboard and you’ll find something.’ So they dropped the net, and there were so many fish that they could not haul it in. The disciple Jesus loved said to Peter, ‘It is the Lord.’ At these words ‘It is the Lord’, Simon Peter, who had practically nothing on, wrapped his cloak round him and jumped into the water. The other disciples came on in the boat, towing the net and the f...

On Holy Island I listened to a man reading from the Song of Songs. He read it wonderfully with no concern that he spoke of lying on the Beloved's breast et al. And I remembered a man saying that women should have a more intimate relationship with Jesus because he was a man - and women.... Not sure I agree, but if nothing else I guess it gives women permission to write about him that way... Women's Prayers Lord, God of my life I stand before you, head bowed Naked and ashamed Bound in my sadness For I know that I am not worthy. Your gaze is upon me Your hand touches my cheek And lifts my eyes to yours Eyes offering forgiveness Mouth smiling Love You take me in your arms Mercy wrapped in Mercy And I rest Clothed in You Lord, God of my life I sit at your feet, head bowed I have given all I have My treasure and my tears Tongue-tied with sorrow For I know I am not worthy Your hand in my hair Your words redeem me I lift my eyes to yours Thanks, echoed with thanks Love with Divine Lov...

Magdalen Lament I am sick. Not the sick of an excited, shrieking, palm filled road Not the sick of what happens next? Not the sick of too much food, too much wine. Not the sick of too little sleep. This is the sick I felt lost in the market-place This is the sick I felt sold into slavery This is the sick I felt at a child born dead This is the sick I felt when the demons laughed and the men spat at me This is the sick of fear drenched, screaming desolation. He is gone. The one who knew me, The one who saved me, The one who loved me. Oily clouds draw a veil over the night sky Moon and stars refuse to look upon those That condemned the Brightest One. His light no longer in this world. Eclipsed by the blackness of men’s hearts, The blindness of their eyes, The shadows of their ambition. He is gone. But I have a star, Fallen from his mouth. A promise to return. I fear I misheard, A demon awakened at his going Taunts me with my loss. For where are the others? I have a star, And by its light...