When language just demeans ones we should love we know that we we have lost our common sense, we leave the lost diminished without care, and hatred permeates the present tense.
And in this moment evil can be felt, while silence is an option to avoid, a voiceless church denies the life of Christ, as neighbours face an unremitting void.
© Andrew Pratt 12/3/2023
Category: Poems
She’s the one Christ should have hated – Jesus and a Samaritan woman – a hymn
Lent 3 The gospel reading (John 4: 5-42) tells of Jesus meeting a Samaritan woman. This hymn reflects on this story. 1 She's the one Christ should have hated, every law set her apart, woman, foreign, faith betrayer, yet compassion warmed his heart. 2 Was he thirsty? Human nature giving us a reason why he would cross these rules, these bound'ries, does this story give the lie? 3 Yet whatever choice we fathom Jesus talked and spoke with her; sought to find a new direction, new found faith began to stir. Andrew Pratt (born 1948) Words © 2011 © 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: 8 7 8 7 Tune: ALL FOR JESUS
Nicodemus meets Jesus, a hymn
This coming Sunday (Lent 2) one of the gospel readings is John 3: 1 – 17 it is the account of Nicodemus visiting Jesus. This hymn reflects on that.
1 The riddle of salvation,
not of a cross or tomb,
confronted Nicodemus
within a quiet room.
Christ took him back to childhood,
and challenged all he knew,
his intellect was tested
by hearing what to do.
2 ‘To reach the end you hope for
you must be born again’.
He looked uncomprehending,
and wondered, was this sane?
But Jesus answered gently,
‘you have your life and worth,
another change is called for,
just like a second birth’.
3 The change that he was facing
would turn his life around,
that was the riddle’s answer,
what he had sought he found.
The life that Jesus offered
required a different frame,
and from that moment forward,
he’d never be the same.
4 And now that call still echoes
in every place and time,
the movement of God’s dancing,
the rhythm and the rhyme
disrupt and change, transform us,
move to another plain,
and those who follow Jesus
will never be the same.
Andrew Pratt (born 1948) based on John 3 vs 1-17 Nicodemus
Words © 2011 © 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: 7 6 7 6 d
THORNBURY; WOLVERCOTE
A Hymn for the Beginning of Lent – Jesus’ temptation
A Hymn for the beginning of Lent – Jesus’ temptation Wild wilderness, pathetic desolation, as Jesus walked, then rested for the night, for forty days his strength was tried and tested, for forty days he sifted wrong and right. He woke to hunger tangled in his being, what miracle might turn these stones to bread? But God within the centre of his spirit was food enough to keep his body fed. His faith was such that it could move a mountain and God could save him from the greatest fall. But faith like this need not be tried or tested; the love of God will never slip or stall. He climbed the mountain, saw the world in splendour, then thought of ruling all his eyes could see; yet power like this was not the thing he needed - devoid of wealth he'd set the people free. Beyond temptation love would live incarnate, his human flesh would laugh and cry and weep, in Christ God's love and grace would not diminish, dynamic love would never die nor sleep. Andrew E Pratt (born 1948) Words © 2015 © 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: SM Metre: 11 10 11 10 Tune: INTERCESSOR
A still small voice, the crumbling earth lies silent – a poem after a devastating earthquake.
A still small voice, the crumbling earth lies silent - a poem after a devastating earthquake.
A still small voice, the crumbling earth lies silent,
a baby suckled at her mother’s breast,
feels flesh grow cool as she lies quietly dying,
no comfort now, no warmth, no earthly rest.
And where is God amid this dust, these ashes?
Is this God’s plan, this random, rancid death?
Where is the blessing in these crumbling buildings
where silent bodies drew a final breath?
The dust, a pall, obscures the teasing sunrise.
See, dawn’s temptation to arise, to wake.
But this dishonest call is, empty, hollow
to any who’ve survived this this night, this quake.
What now? The still, small voice still quietly questions:
there is no consolation for this pain,
but mid the dust and rubble of this carnage,
humanity might rise in hope again.
©Andrew Pratt 7/2/2023
The day after the earthquakes in Turkey, Syria and the surrounding regions. Reposted after earthquake in Taiwan.
