A laser like tongue – A hymn inspired by Jesus baptism which might be used as a dramatic reading.
A laser like tongue used when speaking God's word,
an arc-light to shine through the crass or absurd.
The prophet had spoken of just such a voice,
embodied in John who would offer God's choice.
A preacher from Galilee joined in the crowd,
not hidden, John pointed and called him out loud.
The lamb, God's anointed, Messiah had come,
the Spirit confirming that this was God's son.
The world and God's people spun round by this man
discovered that grace had a limitless span;
and this, while offending the pious, the priest,
brought joy to the ones once regarded as least.
Some soon caught the essence, the crisis, the power,
the challenge of Jesus to twist or devour
their present conceptions, their life-long deceit,
to turn them, re-focus, and make them complete.
And so those around heard both challenge and choice,
the sense of authority rang through his voice.
The call to leave everything seemed so absurd
and yet they responded to Jesus's word.
That word is still rippling, extending through space,
it reaches through time and it tells of God's grace;
it sharpens perception, it rings in each ear,
the spirit is moving, the Kingdom is near.
Andrew Pratt (born 1948) based on Isaiah 49 vs 1-7; Mark 1: 9 – 15; John 1 vs 29-42
© Stainer & Bell Ltd.
Metre: 11 11 11 11
Tune: PADERBORN (Paderborn Gesangbuch 1765) Perhaps this text could be read dramatically rather than sung?
Category: Poems
The Space Shuttle Columbia remembered – a hymn
The Space Shuttle Columbia – a hymn written at the time of its launch and explosion – remembered BBC 2 12/2/2024 - They reached for stars, beyond our grasp… written 4th February 2003.
1 They reached for stars, beyond our grasp,
they rode beyond the clouds,
we gazed in wonder, seized by awe,
now friends grasp empty shrouds.
2 A thousand searing fiery shards
had flared across the sky,
as crowds looked up in disbelief,
and framed the question 'Why?'
3 Can God be found amidst this loss?
Is love a present fact
when torn by pain, in misery,
we lack the power to act?
4 O God make known your presence now,
yes, show your boundless love
as through the tears and loneliness
we/they search the skies above.
Andrew E Pratt (born 1948) written 4th February 2003. Words © 2003 Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England copyright@stainer.co.uk . Please include any reproduction for local church use on your CCL Licence returns. All wider and any commercial use requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.
Metre: CM
Seas, stars and sunsets – a reflection preparing for Lent
As we head towards Lent my mind has gone into reverse!
Rather than what I might give up, I’ve started to wonder what I want to cling to, what I really value. Is there anything I never want to let go of? I suppose for many people the first thing to come to mind will not be a thing but a person. And I begin to reflect. Of all the people I know, or have known, who have loved me and whom I have loved… and I’m brought up short. Immediately I’m conscious of our humanity. Every day we form memories – good and bad. What we do today will be what we remember tomorrow. We may remember some things for a lifetime. But all of us have been born. All of us will die. Some people we love have already already died. Life, for all it holds is transient. Yet we hold memories. We share grief. A poem written some years ago began:
All my life I've had acquaintances.
And some friends.
A varied tapestry of faces,
none permanent,
born and dying.
Parents gave me birth,
both now dead.
Child born
and laid to rest.
Life has taught me to expect loss, sooner or later. I owe so much to so many. I hold memories, and they are invaluable. But if this is a bit bleak for you, for me it is realistic. So what will I hold to? Let me share three memories:
I looked out on the sunset. The sky, deep red, but fading, could not be captured by a camera’s lens, held for eternity. I mused. Different wavelengths of light refracted by the atmosphere, received by a retina, passing through a tangle of neurones, conducted by chemical and physiological interactions, perceived by something we might label consciousness. And is this all? Later I played with water colours, fluid, wet on wet, running into one another out of control, unpredictable.

This was nearer to what I believed I saw. But this did not explain or make sense of what I saw, of what felt. And a realisation rose rather than forced itself on me of something ‘other’. Call that conversion if you will. It was a glimpse of the ‘other’, I will go on calling it that for want of anything better, that changed the direction of my life. To that I will hold.
Then with my first real telescope. Marvelling at the myriad of stars in which our sun and the tumbling planets surrounding it are set.

There yesterday, today and forever. This will outlast me.
Even if climate change is ultimately catastrophic those stars will be there. Beyond the point when our sun dies, compressed in a black hole, stars, light years from ours will burn brightly. Sheer wonder.
But I began the title of this reflection with ‘seas’. And that poem to which I’ve referred ended with these words:
Left again to my earliest memories,
to the rising of the sun
and its setting;
to waxing of the moon
and its waning;
the movement of the waters,
the crashing of the waves,
the constancy of stars;
to the generation of my faith.
In this dynamic patchwork
I find my safety,
lodge securely;
and so,
in death,
I will return again
to the friendly sea
and the sky.
The seas lap round the continents. I was born within 400yards of the sea. I long for the sea. And whenever I can go near it the swell, the movement, the scent, the changing light, constant, yet infinitely varied feels like home.

And as I reflect on this creation in which I have been placed, nurtured, grown I return, as some of you will already have guessed, to two passages of scripture. Seas, stars and sunsets remind me of that something, that ‘other’ that we name God, that is LOVE…
‘You, LORD, are all I have, and you give me all I need; my future is in your hands’(Good News Bible, Psalm 16 verse 5) and ‘…I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers,nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God (Romans 8: 38-39). Amen to that.
To these things, to this, I will cling, through Lent and beyond.
Grace & Peace, Andrew
Text, Watercolour Painting and iPad Painting all copyright Andrew Pratt. This reflection first used in the Mid-Cheshire Methodist Circuit 2024
EMBRACING AGE – POETRY- ART – MULTI-MEDIA COMPETITION
Embracing Age have organised a Competition involving Poetry, Art and Media.
A hymn in a shattering, divided world…perhaps?
Reflecting on the world in which we live, what can we, should we sing?
Hymns should at least allow for the expression of everything to which the Psalms give voice. And I am including those words over which we tend to be rather squeamish. This interpretation of Psalm 137 was attributed to John Donne but was probably written by Francis Davison (circa 1633-69):
Happy, who, thy tender barnes
From the armes
Of their wailing mothers tearing,
'Gainst the walls shall dash their bones,
Ruthless stones
With their braines and blood besmearing.
[Donne, J., The Poems of John Donne, Edit. H.J.C. Grierson, Oxford 1912, p426].
And why should I want to sing this or anything even distantly emotionally related to it? Because sometimes that is how I feel and the Psalms testify to the fact that God can cope with us feeling like that.
Not finding such a hymn in my own denomination’s hymn book at the turn of the millennium, and reflecting on the plight of refugees, I wrote these words. And are they, perhaps, redolent of those of opposing opinions, experiencing hatred and fear, in our world, in our countries today?
1 When anger is our highest creed,
revenge the motivating force;
God, understand our depth of hurt,
our need for action, not just thought.
2 Ejected from what makes us safe,
familiar ground and well-known names,
we sicken for the things we've seen,
all sense of hope and courage drains.
3 We cannot celebrate our faith,
and faith lacks meaning, all is lost;
for nothing is as it once was,
we cannot ever bear the cost.
4 So, God, what should we do or say?
What is there left of love or life?
What mitigating cause or plea
will rid us of this pain of strife?
5 Amid our sense of grief and loss
where nothing now can be the same,
stand in the midst of shattered faith;
rebuild, renew, and raise again.
Andrew E Pratt (born 1948)
Words © 2001 Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England copyright@stainer.co.uk . Please include any reproduction for local church use on your CCL Licence returns. All wider and any commercial use requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.
Metre: LM
Tunes: PLAISTOW; KEDRON(Dare)