Green Patches

Poultices and sticking plaster

 

Another thought-provoking post today from Franciscan Ponderings. I love his likening the healing power of Christ in the Eucharist to a poultice, quoting from the medieval  The Epistle of Privy Counsel.

 

'Take good and gracious God, just as he is,

and without further ado

lay him on your sick self  just as you are,

for all the world as if he were a poultice.

For touching God is eternal health.

You are touching his very being,

his own dear self, no more, no less.'

 

 Thanks to the vagaries of the sacristy rota, I seem to have spent a fair amount of time over the last weeks counting out communion wafers - an activity which oddly enough, I find to be very  calming and conducive to reflection. 

 When I left my previous church a few years ago, and went searching for a new 'home,' one of the first things I was looked  for was a place where celebration of the Eucharist was central - weekly,if not daily.  As  this coincided with my journey into TheThird Order, where the Eucharist is the focus of our prayer and way of life, it became even more of an imperative. At least the field was narrowed - if I'd ever harboured thoughts of changing denomination, this was a staying point.

The heart of our prayer is the Eucharist, in which we share with other Christians the renewal of our union with our Lord and Saviour in his sacrifice, remembering his death and receiving his spiritual food.

-       From the Principles  of the Third Order, Society of St Francis

Already -  as I began the slow process of personalising the order's rule  to fit my circumstances  - I could see it shaping my decisions and way of life.  This is where the poultice image really speaks to me, I think.  During the last  months or so at Oldchurch, that limbo time where I withdrew from all that I'd been involved in in that community, piece by painful piece, both mentally and in actuality, the one straw I clung to, if you like, was Holy Communion.  It was the one constant, a place where I could try, at least to simply 'be' with God.  To let God draw out the poison.  It's an apt analogy. Funnily enough, in some writing I did for 'Newchurch' I've likened them to a sticking plaster - a giant one; a reference to the space I've been given to just 'be' without too many (or any!) demands or expectations.  A place where we embody the love of  Christ. Well, most of the time, anyway! And yes, the Eucharist is celebrated. 

 

 

 

 

 

Take, eat...

 

ὁ τρώγων μου τὴν σάρκα καὶ πίνων μου τὸ αἷμα ἐν ἐμοὶ μένει κἀγὼ ἐν αὐτῷ
whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. (John 6:56)

Thanks to Maggi Dawn for her reflections on Corpus Christi here.  Funnily enough, I'd just rushed in with a wholemeal loaf fresh from the market tucked under my arm.  I was busy chomping my way through a giant doorstep spread with blackcurrant jam as I opened my feedreader. (the Other Half's diet excludes bread atm hence the bread-shaped hole in Yours Truly).  So her reflections on the nuances of τρώγων (eat) struck home. The prospect  of tucking into the rather 'sad', anaemic-looking 50 pence reduced to clear sliced loaf from the freezer simply doesn't appeal.  

 

 

 

How are the mighty fallen

Thanks to Ian for his kind comments on Mr GP's triumph in the bread making department yesterday. I'd not realised the appropriateness of the picture - it being Corpus Christi and all, until church prayer group later that day or I could have elaborated on the theme. Anyway, I did have some fairly profound thoughts stemming from John 6, which I'll spare you here. I'm munching this morning's attempt, (multiseed) as I type. Tastes fine, but the texture is  - how shall we put it - on the heavy side.  Careful chewing is required, I think.  With Mr GP's £160 filling at the dentist yesterday and Steve Tilley's reflections on mouth ulcers  in mind I'll err on the side of caution. Co-operating with the Almighty in his endless creative dance  and attuning oneself with the Spirit's music is one thing; lying speechless and helpless whilst the dentist hovers over  you with his drill is quite another.

He is risen!

Yes, Mr GP has at long last managed to crack the secret of getting bread to rise. The answer is...salt!

On Communion

From Reflections on Life :

Goodgoat is in training to be a member of the Third Order of the Society of St Francis. Franciscans try to make Holy Communion a central part of their lives and to reflect on it. I was doing that this morning at a morning service and something clicked - you know when you’ve been thinking about one thing and then that one thing somehow combines with something else?

For more, read on here.