As we reflect on D-Day after 80 years – a hymn

As we reflect on D-Day after 80 years… Were they filled with expectation? A hymn

Were they filled with expectation?
Did their minds well up with dreams?
Was there pent anticipation;
fear and joy, such tense extremes?
Now the weary, frightened, broken,
find their way to love and life;
strange adjustment, words unspoken,
tension still beyond that strife.

We will hold you as God holds you,
proud or tossing in your sleep,
try to share each hidden feeling,
understand what war can reap.
We will walk this road beside you,
we will always show respect,
we will love and go on loving ,
never lose you or forget.

And to those whose life is ended,
and to others who still grieve,
may God's love enfold and bless us,
when it's hardest to believe.
May we walk into the future
as this time becomes the past;
through each attitude and action
may remembrance live and last.

Andrew Pratt Words © 2010 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 D
Tune: ST WINIFRED (Dunman) – ‘Cradled in manger meanly’.

A single poppy (c) Andrew Pratt

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

A dramatic reflection on Romans 5: 1 – 11 – Justified by faith?

A scribe is working on the letter to the Romans. The scribe is sitting at a table, muttering while looking over a scroll, pen in hand:

Riddles, riddles, riddles…

‘Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ…’

What on earth did he mean, that fall – oops – Paul guy? Freudian!! Sorry!

I mean, what did he mean? That’s the problem with this Greek, no punctuation. I mean you have commas and full stops and what-not. We haven’t.  So what did he mean? You don’t get it?

Well let me read it to you. ‘Therefore since we are justified by faith (exaggerated pause) we have peace with God’. Did he mean that, or did he mean, ‘‘Therefore since we are justified (exaggerated pause) by faith we have peace with God’. See what I mean?

No? Ok, let me spell it out to you. You all seem to think that Paul meant to say that we are justified, made right with God if you like, by faith. No problem with that. Consequence, ‘we have peace with God’.

But I just got to wondering. What if Paul reckoned that we are justified. Accept it! Just trust it is so and that’s the way to peace with God? See what I mean? No? 

Riddles, riddles, riddles…that old scribe playing with words again? I know what you’re thinking. But words are my stock in trade. I do think about them, not just write parrot fashion – if you’ll pardon me mixing  my metaphors?

But perhaps you’re right. I make too much of these details sometimes. I’m a right pedant!

Ok. I’ll get to the point, whatever Paul thinks.

At the end of the day, We have peace with God – don’t we? No beating about the burning bush then?

Wonder what’s next? Think I’ll just make a cuppa (gets up and strolls off).

© Andrew Pratt 14/2/2011