I would praise you

I would praise you
but in times like these, 
praise is hard.
I would praise you
but all around, politicians lie, cronyism is rife,
and those in power care little for the least of these.
I would praise you
but worldwide, oil spills kill,
ice caps melt, temperatures rise,
and apathy and greed are killing our planet.
I would praise you
but everywhere, COVID creates fear,
the poor are still poor,
and refugees flee their homes,
looking for safe harbours to take them in.

I would praise you
for in times so hard,
 praise is all I have.
I would praise you for all around, leaders fail and fall
and only you are faithful, and reign forever.
I would praise you
for worldwide, even marred,
 creation bears your imprint
and your sheer will holds and heals it still.
I would praise you
for everywhere you watch over widows,
 strangers, orphans
and feed the hungry,
and lift the ones bowed down. 

I would praise you
because in times so hard,
times like these,
praise is both call to faith and call to action.
I would praise you
because all around mortal plans crumble into dust
and your promise lasts for all generations.
I would praise you
because worldwide, you sustain all that is
and lives, and moves, and has its being.
I would praise you
because everywhere, you champion the oppressed
and bring the light of hope into the darkest places.
I would praise you
even when, at times, the offering of praise is made
through gritted teeth.
I would praise you. 
       Nik Macdonald 2021

Worship words for 12 Sept - P16

Ugh, life has been a little too busy!!
Must get my act together a wee bit more on this poor neglected blog.
in the meantime, some worship words for this Sunday, focusing upon the reading from James 3:1-13 and the power of words...

Sticks and stones/
The wee ditty rings out:
‘sticks and stones
may break my bones,
but names will never hurt me.’
Bravado that rings hollow.

Words matter,
words batter
and bruise the heart,
the soul.   

Words shatter –
words scatter
glassy shards
of self-image, 
diminish
those created
in God’s likeness,
‘til all that once was whole
lies broken.

Be mindful
of the certain poisoned sweetness
of the tongue.
  c.Nik Mac 2021

Blessing/
May the Word of Life
breathe love into all you say.
Speak well and speak wisely,
console and speak kindly.
Speak truth to power.
Leave space for others to speak.

In all you say—
bless and encourage,
comfort and inspire.
May your words be loving,
life-giving,
honouring the God
in whose image
all are made,
the One who spoke creation into being,
and who speaks words of blessing to us
this day and every day. 
  c.Nik Mac 2021

Trinity Sunday - a short reflection

Beyond/                                                                              
We try,

and fail,

to describe you,

God 

beyond words,

and imagination.

We try,

and fail,

to contain you,

God

beyond space

and time.

Wholly other,

and holy other.

Immense;

God 

who cannot be 

hemmed in.

Majestic.

Mysterious.

Supremely glorious;

God 

to be worshipped

and adored.

Finite
creatures,
in your presence
we

fall down,

fall apart,

fall.

Infinite

Creator,

you 

catch us

cleanse us

call...

As seraphs

listen

in timeless eternity,

‘Yes,’

we utter,

all hushed awe.

     c.Nik Mac 2021

Lectionary leanings for Easter 5B

 A wee reflection I wrote for a project that I'm a part of.

This, picking up the 'vine and branches' theme for Sunday's RCL 
reading of John 15:1-8...

‘I am’, you said,
‘the true vine.’
And I...
am connected:
a branch.

At times,
firm and strong,
flourishing and fruiting
with kindness and care;
peaceful, patient.
Rooted in love,
watered with grace,
tended with tenderness.

But Lord, at times,
I’m barely clinging on,
faltering and flailing,
wondering if you’re there;
rattled and restless.
Wretched, alone –
withered, joy gone,
heavy with helplessness.

In the green times
and the dry,
still, you remain
and so, connected,
help me abide.
  c.Nik Mac 11/2020

Maundy Thursday, in a time of pandemic...

Maundy Thursday, in a time of pandemic...  

This Maundy Thursday,
there’ll be no shared meal around a table
for there’d be more
than two households who’d gather;
no washing of feet,
nor a beloved disciple coorying in;
no touching, no hugging—
and where a kiss is a betrayal
on a variety of levels.

In a time of pandemic,
when simple touch
can lead to death,
how then to show God’s love,
to do as Jesus has done for us?

Loving one another is:
a facemask worn;
the skoosh of sanitiser,
falling cool upon hands
when making entries and exits;
making space—
at least two metres.

There are other ways to practice love—
to touch hearts without touching:
be deliverers of medicines,
of food,
of news,
or, stay home—
for that, too, is an act of loving service.

Support the local food bank.
Phone a friend,
ask them how they really are—
and give the gift of listening
when, timidly, they tiptoe past ‘fine’
and move into harder honesty.

This Maundy Thursday,
we follow the command to love
by touching other’s lives...
without touching.
                    c.Nik Mac 2021

Snakes on a [wilderness] plain: thoughts on Numbers 21:4-9

Having a conversation with some colleagues about this passage, there was talk of whingeing in the wilderness. Familiarity with a text can be both a good and a bad thing! But this time, as I began to try to walk in some wilderness shoes, I found a community of fear and grief, a community of people who were reacting in the way that some do, in circumstances where life has been so utterly changed, and the Promised Land is both an unknown quantity, and an unknown distance. A community who want to believe in the God who has liberated them from Egypt, and yet, who find it so hard in the hot searing sun of the wilderness, when each step forward saps your energy... and then, have to contend with snakes on a wilderness plain.
And so, a reflection of sorts:

A tough love, this.

A tough love, this.

Wilderness wandering,
weary wondering:
‘are we nearly there yet?’

But they do not know where ‘there’ is.

What they do know is:
blasting heat by day,
surprising cold by night;
sand and stone,
occasional bones
bleached clean;
scavengers hovering,
picking off
the ones who fall behind.

No signs of life here,
only dust and death.
Is this their promised freedom?

And some grow nostalgic,
rewrite the past
as a glorious feast
of life.

Slowly
a creeping mutiny begins
in the arid landscape
of their hearts,
and moves outwards;
insinuates itself throughout the camp,
undermines the voice,
the vision,
that led them from slavery.

Hope seeps away
like sweat in the sun
and they are undone
by toxic murmuring.
New life slithers among them,
with a sting.

Stunned
from their misremembered past,
they cry out to heaven,
call upon the One
who brought them to this place,
this strange new freedom.

They are not a petulant people,
but traumatised
and afraid:
there will be wobbles
on the way
to the promised land.

Until then...
a tough love, this,
that removes one poison
through another.
           c.Nik Mac 2021

'Ten words' - thoughts on Exodus 20:1-17

The Ten Commandments - panel at
the National Museum of Scotland

 At first, the Ten Commandments were not referred to as such, but rather as the ‘ten words’ which, later in the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible called the Septuagint, was translated as the ‘decalogue’. These ‘ten words’ were not written in order to beat people with a stick, but rather, were meant to be life enhancing. They are words that are relational—words aimed at living at peace with God, yourself, your neighbours—words that have as their prime motivation, love.

Ten words—
the Decalogue;
Love,
as I have loved you.
Love yourself.
Love others.

Ten words—
summed up in one:
Love.
Not a trap to trip you,
beat you down
or smother.

Ten words—
that show God’s heart.
Love,
that guards and guides you;
seeks the best...
and where peace prospers.
     c.Nik Mac 2021

Transfigured

original painting by Dominic Martinelli - see:
https://www.dominicmartinelli.com/blog/the-transfiguration/

A wee reflection for this upcoming Transfiguration Sunday...

Transfigured                                              

Scrambling and scrabbling over scree, 

snaking their way along ridges 

on the barest of trails, 

they climb,

leaving earthly things behind. 

Clambering with effort around crags, 

avoiding cliff edges, 

looking up occasionally, and feeling dizzy, 

still they follow him. 

He ascends the heights 

like Moses did so long ago, 

he, who wrote the Law on stone. 

They pause awhile upon the mountaintop, 

almost, but not quite, the roof of the world, 

and suddenly, the light is blinding, 

bright, white; 

searing the scales from disciples’ eyes. 

And for a moment, here, closer to the heavens, 

they see him for who he truly is: 

magnificent and glorious, 

majestic. 

Shining amid rocky pinnacles 

the humble rabbi 

is transfigured – 

shot through with shafts of 

burning brilliant white, 

exalted, 

conversing in illustrious company. 

Moses, the Law maker, 

Elijah, the prophet, 

return to the mountaintop 

to meet with the Messiah – 

transcendent anointing. 

Senses ravished by unearthly beauty, 

desperate to stay, 

Peter babbles of pitching tents, 

unable to understand 

the mystery and glory of the moment. 

It passes. 

They slope back down from the summit, 

subdued, and told to keep the secret: 

a truth that they cannot comprehend 

when they descend 

and are more earthly-minded. 

And only after pain and grief, 

execution, 

and a resurrection 

will they truly see him for who he is once more. 

            c.Nik Mac

'Launching out' - a reflection on the baptism of Jesus

Launching out

They grow so fast. 

The new-born duly celebrated,
decorations are quickly packed away.
The hidden years flow by
until we see him,
a man of thirty,
standing by the River Jordan.

 
A new birth:
he will take the plunge,
immerse himself into his calling.

 
Having been the source
of good tidings so long ago,
the time has come
for spreading comfort and joy,
and speaking God’s freedom
in a time of oppression.

 
There will be upsets,
and noses put firmly out of joint.

 
The ending will be...
unexpected –
even though he’d tell his friends
to expect his imminent return.

 
But...
this first new day
must be marked.

 
He will slough off the sawdust
of a carpenter’s workshop,
follow his destiny.

 
As he stands dripping,
drenched in holy affirmation,
he trusts the One
he has followed
since before he can even remember.

 
Diving from high heaven,
a dove confirms
that all is well.

   c.Nik Mac