Poems on Ministry
by Silvia Purdie
A prayer for those in ministry
Ihu Karaiti, Lord of all,
to you be all glory and praise,
from us your people and all the hosts of heaven.
We love you because you came to us before we came to you,
welcomed us and drew us into your arms of tender care.
Thank you for your manaaki.
Give us your heart to care for those you send us to love.
Lord Jesus, you made nga mea katoa,
all things, seen and unseen, things from nga ra o mua
and the freshness of each new day
We name you Kaitiaki of our past, our present and our future,
and all those we carry with us.
Ihu Karaiti, crucified and risen one,
as you were released from the tomb,
so, we pray, release us from Te Ao Pouri,
receive our loss and heal our grief
that we may live in the light and shine your light.
Lord Jesus, you are always interceeding for us to the Father,
teach us how to pray
and inspire our karakia with your Spirit
so that together with you we may minister to the hurting.
Ihu Karaiti, Kaikaranga, you have called us and we thank you.
Raise up your people, we pray,
call forth leaders and ministers of your Gospel
who will honour you and speak your word
and minister to your people in this land.
E te Matua, e te Tama, e te Wairua Tapu,
to you be all glory and praise
from us and all people, ake ake ake. Amine.
Ihu Karaiti, Lord of all,
to you be all glory and praise,
from us your people and all the hosts of heaven.
We love you because you came to us before we came to you,
welcomed us and drew us into your arms of tender care.
Thank you for your manaaki.
Give us your heart to care for those you send us to love.
Lord Jesus, you made nga mea katoa,
all things, seen and unseen, things from nga ra o mua
and the freshness of each new day
We name you Kaitiaki of our past, our present and our future,
and all those we carry with us.
Ihu Karaiti, crucified and risen one,
as you were released from the tomb,
so, we pray, release us from Te Ao Pouri,
receive our loss and heal our grief
that we may live in the light and shine your light.
Lord Jesus, you are always interceeding for us to the Father,
teach us how to pray
and inspire our karakia with your Spirit
so that together with you we may minister to the hurting.
Ihu Karaiti, Kaikaranga, you have called us and we thank you.
Raise up your people, we pray,
call forth leaders and ministers of your Gospel
who will honour you and speak your word
and minister to your people in this land.
E te Matua, e te Tama, e te Wairua Tapu,
to you be all glory and praise
from us and all people, ake ake ake. Amine.
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Gaps in the wall
(on ministry and God and identity) I cannot imagine who I would have been if I had not been drawn to the gaps in the wall between this world and eternity The biggest gaps are the littlest things a smile of a toddler, the feel of a petal a small square of bread in my hand A fantail flies through and its wings brush my arm I hold out a stick and it lands for a while it chirps at me and is gone I stand at the front of a room full of people around them I lay a drawstring of gold (with words not my own though the voice is mine) that borrows my heart and my mind I stand at the front with the flowers and casket a woman is dead and her family hurts I say the old words and I lift up my hands at the edge of the gap and I push her on through I open the book and a guide is waiting (not always, but often) to lead me in he links it together and opens up questions and burrows my heart and my mind I come to the silence, I warm to the light the energy bubbles like jets in a spa I carry it with me, this crack in time Psalm 64: Protect my life and my ministry
God, hear the voice of my complaint! Protect my life and my ministry from fear of attack. Hide me from scheming critics and hallway mutterers who sharpen their tongues like bullets and shoot like snipers from out of the blue. They feed the complaints of others and hide behind smiles and righteous indignation. God, expose the voice of their complaining! Turn their tongues against them, trip them up on their schemes. Show us the work that you will do so we understand what you have done. The rightous rejoice in the Lord and take refuge in him the upright in heart praise you, O Lord. Crack me open again,
why don't you, Lord - chisel down deep, why not - chip away my crust of pride again work the heart wood with hammer and fire Toss the shavings into the blaze let them catch alight and rise and fall, glow and char. |
The Swallowed Sword
I fell into the Fall ground cut and dug with tears and blisters earth and heart wounded and held open weeping wound pain sustained painful toil sweat and tears dust to dust cursed is the ground a flaming sword to block the way to the tree of life From beginning to end then till whenever turn turn turn again through swords and swords and nails on a beaten tree until there He stands flaming among the flames eyes flashing fire and he reaches into his mouth and pulls out the sword the very same sword that once barred the way to life He pulls it out from his throat out from his mouth a razor sharp word of power brandished held high then laid aside and his eyes flashed and his face shone brighter than the sun brilliant then as I lay as dead he bent over me effortlessly juggling stars placed his hand on me and the words of power were Do not be afraid! I am the First and the Last I am the Living One alive for ever and ever! Write therefore See. Look, and write! What has been what is now and what is yet to come But wait there’s more! See. Look, take note write what you have seen write what is now write what will happen Pay attention! for the sword was swallowed death was swallowed up in life pain burned away by brilliance Revelations 1:10-19 |
5 poems from a hard place Silvia Purdie, June 2019
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On the edge of extinction
I suppose I’m a bit of a dinosaur end of an era last of the line keeping company with a few old relics old hymns, old liturgy huddling in buildings from another age. I am trained for a job rapidly ceasing to exist, equiped for a project that hardly anyone my age or younger cares much about. Do I? care, that is. I caretake these treasures but who will inherit them? I guess I knew when I began doomed from the start set up to fail this way of being church left high and dry a quaint remnant of the way things were Parish ministry is so last century! Gratitude When I go looking for how to cope better I can’t get far without bumping into gratitude. Complaining gets boring pretty quick. Gratitude leads me further. Thank you for right now, for this breath Thank you for a cup of tea and sun through the window Thank you for the people who love me Thank you for the things I find easy. Thank you for sending Jesus, when you didn’t have to bother. Thank you for making all this beauty - I am so sorry we’ve stuffed it up. Thank you for your Spirit who is closer than close. Thank you for what I know of your glory. Thank you for troubles, even though I don’t welcome them. Thank you for endurance, for pulling me through. Thank you for character; I just want to be like you. Thank you for hope, for “hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” Romans 5:5 |
Hits
I’m bruised, Lord, battle weary. I can still feel every hit every harsh word every angry glance. I can still feel every ache, every polite rejection every absence when I hoped they would come. I’m pretty good at bouncing back re-inflating each time trying again But give me a break! give it a rest! Can’t things just go well this week and everyone be OK?? Honesty
A man once asked me, as we stood in line waiting for tea, ‘What is counselling, really?’ I had an answer, though I hadn’t found it until that moment: Honesty. The therapeutic process is being honest with yourself, and the counsellor is there to help and to witness. Mostly we don’t make room for honesty. ‘Keep calm and carry on’ is our motto which is all fine and good as far as it goes but when it is perched on non-honesty it gets harder and harder to keep up. Me, I need silence and solitude to find what is true. The TV and the internet fill every corner with everything else. Meetings and emails keep us too busy and honesty is too dangerous. In conversations we only want a tiny slice of truth, well packaged for ease of consumption. People who really do want to hear what is real are rare as hen’s teeth. I want to be one. I want to be honest, with myself and my God, and to help other people find what is true. |
Total Submission
In the Our Lady of the Trinity Monastery in Leithfield
(how does that even work, ‘Our Lady of the Trinity’?
Is she part of the Trinity? Does she birth the Trinity
or belong to it? I don’t quite get it)
the Sisters pray every morning
an Act of Consecration:
In the presence of all the heavenly court
I choose you this day, for my Mother and Queen;
I deliver and consecrate to you,
in total submission and love,
my body and soul,
my goods, both interior and exterior
and even the value of my good actions
past, present and future;
leaving you the entire and full right of disposing of me
and all that belongs to me,
without exception,
according to your good pleasure,
for the greater glory of God
in time and in eternity.
Amen.
Written by St Louis-Marie Grignon de Montford.
I guess it flowed a little better in the French,
but the power of it is there.
If I prayed this to ‘my Father and King’
it would be more biblical
(more protestant at least)
but the act of commitment would be the same.
Me, I could say this to Christ my Lord, no problem.
I’m not sure I need the heavenly court watching on,
but hey they’re welcome.
I’m intrigued by the idea of interior and exterior goods;
what is ‘all that belongs to me’?
Does my property belong to me? It’s co-owned with my husband, not mine to give away.
My heart and my body is also co-owned with him.
Then there’s the kids of course, they have a big share of me and my goods.
As for my ministry, that belongs to the Presbytery,
the parish is not mine.
I can divvy up and share myself out all day long
and miss out on the good pleasure of God.
But if I started the day here,
in total submission and love,
how would it turn out, I wonder?
In the Our Lady of the Trinity Monastery in Leithfield
(how does that even work, ‘Our Lady of the Trinity’?
Is she part of the Trinity? Does she birth the Trinity
or belong to it? I don’t quite get it)
the Sisters pray every morning
an Act of Consecration:
In the presence of all the heavenly court
I choose you this day, for my Mother and Queen;
I deliver and consecrate to you,
in total submission and love,
my body and soul,
my goods, both interior and exterior
and even the value of my good actions
past, present and future;
leaving you the entire and full right of disposing of me
and all that belongs to me,
without exception,
according to your good pleasure,
for the greater glory of God
in time and in eternity.
Amen.
Written by St Louis-Marie Grignon de Montford.
I guess it flowed a little better in the French,
but the power of it is there.
If I prayed this to ‘my Father and King’
it would be more biblical
(more protestant at least)
but the act of commitment would be the same.
Me, I could say this to Christ my Lord, no problem.
I’m not sure I need the heavenly court watching on,
but hey they’re welcome.
I’m intrigued by the idea of interior and exterior goods;
what is ‘all that belongs to me’?
Does my property belong to me? It’s co-owned with my husband, not mine to give away.
My heart and my body is also co-owned with him.
Then there’s the kids of course, they have a big share of me and my goods.
As for my ministry, that belongs to the Presbytery,
the parish is not mine.
I can divvy up and share myself out all day long
and miss out on the good pleasure of God.
But if I started the day here,
in total submission and love,
how would it turn out, I wonder?