Anthology

Advent Poems (Dec 24th) - You Came

2008-12-31T23:30:00.032Z

I am here
You came

I am here, refusing to move
You came to meet the stubborn
I screw up, never getting it right
You came to forgive the mistakes
I don’t know what it is to live – not properly
You came to teach the hopeless

I’m here
You came

I put myself first
You came as the least
I like to look important
You came in humiliation
I keep getting lost
You came to find me

I am here
And you came

I give, predominantly according to what I am likely to get in return
You gave up everything to serve those who had nothing

I avoid spending time with those I don’t deem to be worthy of my company
You became a joke
An embarrassment
A disgrace
You sacrificed a throne of power and influence to be looked down upon by those residing in gutters
You left behind royal robes to wash the feet of fishermen

I am here
You came

I insist on comfort
On popularity
On attention
I demand my rights
I focus on what I do not have
As I “sacrifice” my ten percent

You came into this world amongst cows
Covered in blood and hay and filth
You came into the cold
To a world that rejected you to barns and sheds
Even before your birth

You came

You came to a poor family
You came to a lowly and pathetic set of guests
You came to a government that feared you
You came to a law that sought to destroy you
You came as an outlaw
You came as a child
A baby
A newborn
A foetus
You came to a dangerous world
A world that already hated you
Already despised you
A world that long before had turned its back on you
A world that would spend 30 years of its history trying to physically annihilate you
And thousands more trying to get rid of you completely
You came to that world in the most vulnerable of states

And you changed everything

I am nothing
Filling that void with worthless importance
Searching for meaning
And purpose
And love

I am here
And you came

Advent Poems (Dec 23rd) - Dear Santa

2008-12-31T23:30:00.030Z

Dear Santa,

For Christmas this year
I would like peace for all mankind.
Place it in a box and wrap it in a bow.
Make sure, this year, everyone knows
That peace on earth is achieved.
I would really love to receive
Peace and joy and harmony
And cheer and understanding for all
Make the weak feel ten feet tall.
To the poor give wealth
To the sick give health
And make the world a better place
Let earth and sky resound with grace
Let global peace be waiting for me
When I look under the Christmas tree
Dear Santa Claus I make this plea
Yours truly, lots of love, from Me -x-

…

P.S. Dear Santa
Also, please do not forget
My radio controlled Meccano set
And if it’s not too high a price
A chocolate fountain would be nice
I need, of course, some garden tools
An i-pod would be pretty cool
A drill, some socks, a model train
Some DVD’s and candy canes
And if all this weighs down your sleigh
We’ll save peace for another day
I really want world hope and love
Just not instead of other stuff
So Santa let my gifts increase
And maybe next year ask for peace.

Advent Poems (Dec 22nd) - If I Were a Turkey

2008-12-31T23:30:00.029Z

To be sung to the tune of If I were a Rich Man from Fiddler on the Roof (I have attached the song so you can play it and sing along if you don't know it).

If I were a turkey

Gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble yum

I would run away at Christmas time

If I were a turkey bird

I’d really have to work hard

Gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble yum

Christmas day is not a festive time

If you are a big, fat turkey bird

I’d act like big fat cows or small tiny gerbils

Dogs, cats or any kind of pet

Animals that aren’t served as Christmas lunch

There would be one mad turkey just going moo

And one even madder who’s a vet

And one crazed bird who thinks he’s Captain Crunch

I’d wag my tail and purr and bark and I’d bleat and neigh

For the farm to see and hear

Anytime the farmer or wife gets near

And each loud “woof!” and “meow!” and “baaa!” and “eeaaw!”

Would land like a trumpet on the ear

As if to say “there are no turkeys here.”

If I were a turkey

Gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble yum

I would run away at Christmas time

If I were a turkey bird

Oh sage and onion stuffing

Mix it, boil it, stir it, ball it and then stick it up my bum

Christmas day is not a festive time

If you are a big, fat turkey bird

I’d hide in sheds or trees or behind other turkeys

Inside a bush or underground

Anywhere to make sure that I wasn’t seen

I would hitch-hike my way to some exotic country

Somewhere where I could not be found

Where turkeys are treated like kings and queens

The most important men in town would come to fawn on me!

They would ask me to advise them,

Like a Mother Goose the Wise.

"If you please, Sir Turkey..."

"Pardon me, Sir Turkey..."

Posing problems that would cross my farmer's eyes.

Gobble Gooooooble

Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuum

And it won't make one bit of difference if I answer right or wrong.

When you're there, they treat you like a god.

If I were there, I'd have the time that I lack

To sit in the sun all day and tan.

And made to feel that I stood at ten feet tall

And at Christmas they’d serve the finest of foods

And I am not on the menu plan.

And that would be the sweetest thing of all.

If I were a turkey

Gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble yum

All day long I’d gobble gobble yum

If I were a turkey bird

I’d really have to work hard

Gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble yum

There are things I never could avoid

Christmas time my neck would feel a void

That is why I’m vastly overjoyed

That I’m not a turkey bird

Advent Poems (Dec 21st) - My Last Mince Pie

2008-12-31T23:30:00.027Z

I hate mince pies, mince pies suck
The chewy, slimy, sickly mess
One more pie I swear I’ll chuck
I couldn’t like those mince pies less

All month long I’ve had to munch
Each day and every night

Pies for breakfast, pies for lunch
I cannot take another bite

I’m full, I’m done, I’m going to die
My head and guts are reeling

As every chew of every pieGets less and less appealing

So burn and destroy all supplies
I’m sick to death of fresh mince pies

Advent Poems (Dec 20th) - Joseph Limerick

2008-12-31T23:30:00.023Z

There was a young man named Joseph

Who, um…. darnit!

Advent Poems (Dec 19th) - Carol Singers (Part 4)

2008-12-31T23:30:00.021Z

Sitting alone in my flat in the cold

People I loved have now left

Family and friends walked out long ago

Now I’m anxious, depressed and bereft

Everything I’ve ever believed in was false

All those I trusted told lies

There is no humanity, love has no pulse

And kindliness dwindles and dies

Today I discovered that nothing is real

Today marked the back-breaking straw

Today put an end to every ideal

Today my heart learnt to close doors

Tonight is the night that all of this ends

Tonight I escape from the pain

Tonight I respond to a world that pretends

Tonight I will crumble in vain

I slowly and cautiously get to my feet

And pray for a reason to fight

When suddenly, quietly, out from the street

Some soft voices sing “Silent Night”

I peer through my curtains and smile as I see

Ten people with mince pies and wine

They grin and they laugh as they sing out of key

Their quivering voices divine

They walk down the road and they sing outside drives

In their jubilant, Christmas time quest

I sit and I listen and keep closing my eyes

As I silently make my requests

After an hour, I hear my bell ring

I hold my breath, hoping they’ll pass

Not wanting to show them this mess that I’m in

So I freeze as I peer through the glass

They leave and I see them try a few more

Who seem to think that it’s a con

Maybe I should have just opened the door

But when I look back they are gone

I wish I had joined them and not stayed and moped

I wish I had worked to spread cheer

But as I reflect, I am filled with the hope

That maybe I’ll see them next year

Advent Poems (Dec 18th) - Carol Singers (Part 3)

2008-12-31T23:30:00.016Z

We sing for an hour then slowly head home
Heads down and feeling dejected
Ten people united in feeling alone
In not getting what was expected

The smiles have faded, the laughter has stopped
The mince pies and mulled wine have gone cold
Our mission to brighten up Christmas has flopped
I guess Christmas is getting too old

They’ve all stopped believing that people are nice
So nobody answers the door
People assume it must come at a price
That we’re scouting and asking for more

Maybe our seasonal plan was naïve
In a world that will always suspect
Perhaps it was foolishness had us believe
That carols would have an affect

Advent Poems (Dec 17th) - Carol Singers (Part 2)

2008-12-31T23:29:00.002Z

Relaxing at home with a beer
These moments of calm are in danger
When suddenly what do I hear
Songs of “Away in a Manger”

I jump up to switch off the lights
So when they knock, I can ignore
But I’m too late and they catch sight
Of my frame through the glass in the door

They tell me they don’t want my money
Which instantly makes me suspect
These guys are up to something funny
Recruiting for some kind of sect

I make my excuse and they make their retreat
I can’t help a slight twinge of shame
I peer out my window and all down the street
The reactions are mostly the same

Advent Poems (Dec 16th) - Carol Singers (Part 1)

2008-12-16T19:03:00.003Z

Wrapped up, gloved and excited
Traditional songbooks in hand
Ten people together, united
In our seasonal holiday plan

Tonight we are going to sing
Carol’s of Jesus’ birth
Our joyful endeavour to bring
A blessing to our bit of earth

We’re handing out free, fresh mince pies
And non-alcoholic mulled wine
To neighbours and cold passers-by
To brighten up their Christmas time

So here we stand, cold and aflame
Our songbooks out, ready to start
We silently whisper one name
As we sing from the depths of our hearts

Advent Poems (Dec 15th) - Gateway FM

2008-12-16T19:00:00.002Z

Click here for a full explanation as to why this poem came to be:

Sitting in the studio

Matt and Ruth are a gem

From the Basildon steeple to all of three people

It’s Christmas on Gateway FM

With music across the decades

And local news from the shops

We’re here until three. There’s a big walking tree

He’s live and not likely to stop

Ruth didn’t get the good mic

Because she turned up quite late

The gremlins were lurking, the music stopped working

But now it’s all back and it’s great

So this is my day on the radio

Let’s hope it happens again

The tinsel is glistening but no one is listening

This Christmas on Gateway FM

Advent Poems (Dec 14th) - Herod Limerick

2008-12-16T18:59:00.000Z

There was an old man who was king

Who did a peculiar thing

He ordered all boys

Under two be destroyed

Just so king could then cling to his bling

Advent Poems (Dec 13th) - Shepherd Limerick

2008-12-16T18:58:00.001Z

There was a young man called Phillipe

Whose job was to look after sheep

One night he looked higher

To a heavenly choir

And ran waking peeps from their sleep

Advent Poems (Dec 12th) - Advent Songs

2008-12-12T11:43:00.001Z

Advent poems and advent songs

Advent solos, advent throngs

Losing patience, gaining strength

Holding now and then at length

We pause and as we rest we toil

Bringing silence to the boil

Longing still to be connected

To something more than we expected

Making noise and celebration

In active anticipation

Working hard in quiet reflection

Waiting for divine detection

Our spirits lift and we’re aware

For what it is we must prepare

And while we wait, we scrape along

Singing joyful advent songs

Advent Poems (Dec 11th) - Radio Times

2008-12-11T17:50:00.002Z

As that beautiful day approaches

And the anticipation climbs

There is always one thing that makes my heart sing

It’s the Christmas Radio Times

With all of that seasonal telly

There is only one source you can trust

It’s detailed and forthright and lasts for a fortnight

The Radio Times is a must

With all of its info on programmes and films

And its practical family guide

Through the Times I’ll be thumbing. I’ll know just what’s coming

This Christmas I’m staying inside

So bring on those holiday listings

From now to the new year’s eve chimes

No matter what’s aired, I’ll know, I’m prepared

With my Christmas Radio Times

Advent Poems (Dec 10th) - The Retailer's Christmas

2008-12-11T17:49:00.000Z

Watching millions and millions peruse the shelves

In my suited up Christmas-themed store

Spending their money and losing themselves

In a world that will always want more

Oh how I love the consumers of Yule

Those wide-eyed, excited young shoppers

A young spender’s cash is a retailer’s fuel

Their notes, their coins and their coppers

I love it, I love it, the closer it gets

The last minute panic and rush

Well meaning mothers working up debts

In that purchase crazed, pre-Christmas crush

The spin and ker-ching of the roll in the till

The pile-up of notes in the bank

The wallets are emptied, the shopping bags filled

And who do we have to thank?

This wonderful season of products and things

Of marketing, posters and ads

Reminding the public what joy it can bring

To fill up your stockings with fads

Never allow the silence to stir

Drown out the peace with a cry

Spin Christmas into a spend-crazy blur

And keep them believing the lie

“The value of love is the value of cash

A man without love is a thrift

The more that one loves, the more one should dash

The more one should spend on a gift”

Force them to buy, remove their autonomy

Make Christmas spend without reason

The loss of the spirit boosts the economy

God bless the retailer’s season

Advent Poems (Dec 9th) - Wise Men Limerick

2008-12-11T17:47:00.002Z

This is the tale of some men

Whose wisdom exceeded them when

They followed a star

Which took them quite far

And led them to Jesus – Amen!

Advent Poems (Dec 8th) - The Innkeeper's Limerick

2008-12-11T17:45:00.003Z

There was an innkeeper named Ned

Who offered some hope when he said

You’ve taken too long

The birthing suites gone

But I know of a beautiful shed

Advent Poems (Dec 7th) - Santa

2008-12-11T17:41:00.002Z

This poem, of course, refers to Santa Clause the movie starring Tim Allen as opposed to Santa Claus the Christmas character because, as we all know, that would be inaccurate and stupid.

Sitting
At
Night
Thinking
All

Christmases
Lack
Any
Unusual
Saviour
Expectations

Advent Poems (Dec 6th) - My First Mince Pie

2008-12-11T17:31:00.004Z

My first mince pie and I’m in heaven
The flaky, crumbly, mincemeat bliss
Give me the choice, I’d eat eleven
Sweet pastry it doesn’t get better than this

Serve it hot or serve it cold

I do not care just serve it

If someone’s selling, deem it sold

If I’m not there reserve it

Clotted/double/single cream
I’m a mince pie eating fool

I go to bed to mince pie dreams

If only it were always Yule

So stuff me full, I’ll still surmise
I’ll never tire of fresh mince pies

Advent Poems (Dec 5th) - Jack's Limerick

2008-12-05T12:47:00.002Z

Due to heavy public criticism, this poem has been adapted so that the final line scans "better". For the original (and, I would say, superior) poem, please see here.

This is the story of Jack

Whose energy started to lack

See Jack was a donkey

Whose legs were quite wonky

With a pregnant girl sat on his back

Advent Poems (Dec 4th) - Christmas Trees

2008-12-04T22:54:00.000Z

Real

Christmas

Trees

Die

Brown

Languish

Shower needles

Make mess

Have to be watered

Need to be thrown away!

Like spoilt children

They always demand attention

Insisting they be kept and tended to.

But I love real Christmas trees

They make a room smell of Christmas

They bring life to a warmly decorated lounge

They change the air, the atmosphere

They turn a neglected corner into a centre piece

They become an extra seasonal character to the family

And for this reason

I’ll always love

Real trees

Fake

Christmas

Trees

Last

Survive

Keep going

Do not change

Continue.

They are practical

Can be used year after year

They want for nothing

They effect their job effortlessly

Spending summer months in the attic

They wait for next year patiently

They do not intrude on the atmosphere

Simply offer visual stimulus for those who look

In their manufactured shades of green.

They are clean, cost effective, strong and plastic

Nothing can be more reliable than a fake Christmas tree

And for this reason

I’ll always use

Fake trees

Advent Poems (Dec 3rd) - The Christmas Lesson

2008-12-04T22:50:00.002Z

They wait
Wide eyed and expectant
In a season where good things come
From the darkest places

They know
From the dull comes excitement
From frowns comes laughter
And soon those who oppressed and restricted
Will join and smile and encourage and play.

He stands
Before them and smiles
Allowing their hope to grow
Filling their hearts.
Behind their eyes he can see it
A joy unmistakable
Waiting
Shaking
Leaning forward
Ready to breakout across their faces with one word:

“Christmas!”

They smile,
They laugh,
They sigh with relief
Their brains switch off and their hearts engage
A veil dissipates
The room brightens

There will be no writing today
No marks
No assessments
No judgement
They know this subject
They do it well
This is their speciality

“What is Christmas?”

Hands shoot up,
Stretching to the ceiling
Like vines to the sun
Answers explode:
Food
Chocolates
Santa
Snow
Reindeer
Trees
Jesus
They laugh

He stops
He looks
He asks

“What about Jesus?”

They pause
They think
They consider
They discuss

The boring nativity
The children’s play
The distraction from what’s really important

Silence

They continue

They ask
They answer
They learn
They teach

The importance of a childish tale
The relevance of an old fable
The excitement of a dull story
So much knowledge to be acquired from that already known
No separation but a solid synthesis
Everything they felt
And believed
And knew
Confirmed by what has been procured

They leave
Unchanged
Unshaken
Affirmed in their faith of what is pure and perfect and real

He stays
Inspired, refreshed and challenged
He sits and he waits
Wide eyed and expectant
The only student in the class

Advent Poems (Dec 2nd) - Mary Limerick

2008-12-02T20:59:00.002Z

There was a young girl named Mary

Whose encounter with God made her wary

He said she’d give birth

To the saviour of earth

I think I’d have found that quite scary

Advent Poems (Dec 1st) - Advent Calendars

2008-12-01T23:51:00.004Z

I love advent – advent calendars

The chocolaty, picture based, countdown challengers

I love opening advent doors

Advent windows, advent drawers

December first and I start counting

Christmas is coming, the excitements mounting

Put up the tinsel, break out the lights

Stockings are great but you’ll get more in tights

Keep shopping, no stopping it all starts here

December the first – it’s commercial cheer

The presents, the trees, the food – it’s great

Putting off budgets and putting on weight

I’m already singing, I’m already Dancing

And Dashing and Blitzing and Donning and Prancing

It’s time to join throngs of festive scavengers

And it all starts here with advent calendars

When I Leave

2008-11-23T21:51:00.001Z

When I leave this place
The music will continue
The lights will follow me
The masses, the crowds of like-minded people
Jumping
On fire
Energised
Quaking with anticipation
They will join me
When I leave this place
My heart will stay the same
It will not shift, become downtrodden
Consider sin.
It will not lust after the things it will never have
It will rest in this place.
When I leave here I will walk with you
Holding tight to your hand,
Never leaving your side
I will walk with my chest out and my head held high.

When I leave this place
I will cry out hallelujah and the world will respond.
Communities will sit on the edge of their seats,
Waiting for my return.
Waiting to hear what I have to say
And I will know the words
When I leave this place my speech will be loaded with salt
Poetry will flow from my tongue
My dialogue will change minds
And hearts will break and mend at my discourse
When I leave this place
People will ask for evidence
And I will give them proof
I will call on you and you will show your face
When I leave here you will be known.
You will be seen
You will be heard
Through me
Through the music, the lights, the crowds, the words
You will be acknowledged, praised, worshipped, adored
When I leave this place
There will be no more doubt
All evidence of a godless world will be removed
Your followers will act like you
Your enemies will bow to you
The world will love you as you love it.
When I leave this place
It will be exactly like this
And you will be the only thing that matters
When I leave this place
The real world will disappear
And I will never wake up.

Ready?

2008-11-20T11:50:00.004Z

This was the sketch we performed for Kerygma Theatre Company's first set of performances at the Salvation Army Area Praise meetings around Essex last month.

Ready?

(Simon Peter, Andrew and Matthew are waiting. Peter is sat quietly, Matthew is writing at a desk and Andrew is pacing impatiently. Andrew walks up to Peter as if to say something, thinks better of it and walks away. He sits on the edge of Matthew’s desk. He picks up one of the pieces of paper on the desk. Without looking, Matthew takes it out of Andrew’s hand and puts it back on the desk. Andrew picks up another piece of paper. Same happens. Andrew picks up the ink well Matthew was using and holds it above his head, attempting to get a reaction from him. Again, not looking, Matthew jabs Andrew in the leg with his pen as if he were dipping his pen in the ink well. Andrew yelps and drops the ink. Matthew catches it and puts it back where it was. Andrew paces a little bit more)

Andrew This is ridiculous. I have got to get out of this house.

Matthew (Not taking his eyes off his work) He said we had to stay here.

Andrew And do what?

Matthew Wait.

Andrew And we have done that. Flippin’ heck we have done that in spades. In the whole history of commandments, there is not one that has been obeyed more than we have obeyed the command to stay here and wait. Surely it is now time to go. Come on.

Matthew (Looking up from his work for the first time) He said we would know when the time was right.

(Goes to argue back but decides against it)

Andrew Where’s John?

Matthew (Back to writing) He’s downstairs fixing dinner.

Andrew I might go and see if he needs a hand.

Matthew I’m under strict instructions not to let you in the kitchen.

Andrew What? Why not?

Matthew Because you’re annoying.

Andrew That’s not fair.

Matthew I know it’s not. Why I should have to put up with you is anyone’s guess.

(Andrew goes back to sitting on the edge of Matthew’s desk. Pause)

Andrew I think it’s time.

Matthew (Throwing his pen down and giving up trying to write) What?

Andrew I do, I think it’s time. It’s a warm glow right in the depths of my bowels. It says we should march out of here and get on with some ruddy work.

Matthew Andrew if we spent our ministry following the impulse of your bowels we would find ourselves in all sorts of trouble

Andrew (Moving over to Peter) Si, you get it right? I know you’d much rather be out there than stuck up in here. Come on Si, you’re in charge now, just say the word and we’ll go

Peter He said we had to stay here.

Andrew (Exasperated) Argh, till when?

Peter Till we’re ready.

Andrew I am ready.

Peter There’s a difference between ready and bored.

Matthew Or ready and impatient.

Andrew I know that. All I’m saying is we’re ready. All of us. We know what we’re doing. We’ve been doing it for the past three years. We have been taught, prepared and trained and now we are ready to just go out and do it. And we need to move soon. People are looking to us. To what we’re going to do next. But they’re starting to get restless. Si every day, every hour spent in this room is time wasted. We need to get out there.

Peter Not yet.

Andrew What are we waiting for?!

Peter For him.

Andrew He’s gone.

Peter He’s coming back.

Matthew Not as we’ve known him. (Pause. Peter and Andrew turn to look at Matthew) Simon maybe Andrew’s right. The master told us to wait but it wasn’t for him to physically return.

Andrew Yeah that’s right he said he was going to send a ghost.

Matthew His Spirit.

Andrew Exactly.

Matthew The point is, maybe he’s already here. Maybe he wants us to realise that he lives on in our hearts and in our words and in our actions. Maybe that’s what he meant. Maybe we are ready.

Peter (Thinks about it) No. No he said we’d know. He said when the time came we would all know it.

Matthew But how can you be sure that that moment isn’t right now.

Peter Because we don’t all know it.

Andrew I know it.

Peter I don’t. Brother please. Something big is about to happen I’m certain of it. But until it does we need to wait and get ourselves ready.

Andrew Simon

Peter Peter

Andrew What?

Matthew He refuses to go by any other name than that which the master gave him.

Andrew Are you serious?

Peter Of course I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be serious?

Andrew Because I’m your brother. Because I have called you Simon for the past 22 years. Because that is your name.

Peter Not anymore.

Andrew Oh for goodness sake do you know how pretentious that sounds?

Peter Andrew…

Andrew Actually, Peter, I’d rather you called me Delilah from now on.

Peter Oh grow up.

Andrew What so you’re allowed a new name…

Peter This isn’t about names!!!

Matthew Come on Simon…

Andrew Ah ah. It’s Peter now don’t forget.

Matthew Ah yes, of course

Peter Don’t you get it? Do none of you get it? Everything is about to change. Everything! Everything we’ve ever known and loved and valued flies out the window the moment we walk out of that door. We’re not being called to do what we’ve spent the past three years doing. This is something else. Something more. This is going to turn everything on its head. And you stand there and say that you’re ready for that but you can’t even deal with someone changing their name. What if we’re being called out of Judea? What if we’re being called out of Israel? What if we’re being called to leave our friends and family? What if we’re called to never see them again? What if we’re being called to die? What if we’re being called to die as he died? Are we ready for that?

Matthew Si…Peter.

Peter Sorry. We just need to be more patient. Especially with each other. Anyway, I’m famished. I’ll see how dinner’s coming along. I’ll call up when it’s ready?

(Peter exits)

Andrew Do you think he’ll let me call him Pete?

Matthew Andrew.

Andrew I know. I do. I’m just worried that we’re going to miss out because we’re waiting for something and we’re not even sure what it is.

Matthew Do you trust him?

Andrew What? Simon? (He thinks) Yeah. Yeah I do.

Matthew Then we wait.

Andrew And we make sure we’re ready.

I Am He

2008-10-28T12:18:00.001Z

I am
I am He
The one
The creator
I am the beginning and I am the end
I am all powerful
All seeing
All knowing
All being
I am not a God
Rather I am the God
I am He
The one
The only
The truth and the light
I am in every sound, every smell, every sight
In every sensation
For I created sensation
I am He
The one
Who created all things
Every atom, every cell
Every particle and molecule
All things that have breath have breath from my name
Every creature
Every fish
Every bird
Every plant
Were born from my hands
My mind
My heart
I am He
The one
Who created Man
Woman
Girl
And boy
With capacity for love
For compassion
For joy
I am He
The one
The designer of planets
The author of galaxies
The artist who determined where each star
And moon
And comet should go
To create the universe
My universe
My own
I am He
The one
The creator
The keeper
The owner
I am God

And I am weak
I am poor
Downtrodden
Oppressed
And sick
I am bruised
Defiled
I am beaten
And kicked
I am that loner who everyone mocks
Who no one has time for
That is me
I am He
I am the deaf girl who nobody signs for
The mute child who nobody speaks for
I am blind
Disabled
I’m mentally ill
The man on the street who is ignored by passer-by after passer-by.
That is me
The jailed criminal who everyone has given up on
That is me
I am the abandoned
The lost
The failed
The failure
That is me
I am He
I am the enslaved
Exploited
The used and abused
I am hungry
I am naked
I am homeless
That is me
I am He

And you helped me
The man who fell and you picked up
That was me
You did it to me
I was the blind woman you helped across the road
The sick child you looked after
The lonely teenager you had dinner with.
Every time you love
And care
And nurse
And take care of
Every time you show compassion
Every time you go out of your way to make someone feel appreciated
And valued
And wanted
That is me
You do it for me
When you speak out and demand justice
That is me
It’s my justice you’re campaigning for
When you plant your feet and say “enough is enough!”
And you throw your head back and cry “freedom for all!”
That is me
I am he
I am the slave you fight to set free
When you comfort the hurting
And cry with the mourning
Spend time with the dying
Give food to the starving
When you give up and suffer
For the least of these
When you sacrifice and sweat
For the poor and diseased
That was me
I am He
You did these selfless things for me

And I thank you
I thank you for taking the time
I thank you for visiting me
In hospital
In prison
When I was alone
I thank you for inviting me round
To share your company
Your food
Your home
I thank you for stopping
For sitting with me
Eating with me
For taking time to pray for me
I thank you for taking my arm and helping me walk
For taking my words and helping me talk
Thank you for never giving up on me
For believing in me
For seeing all the things that I could and should be
I thank you specifically
For being with me at the back of the class and helping me learn
Maths
English
Geography
History
Thank you for teaching me
For feeding me
For showing me how to feed myself
For refusing to let me live on the shelf
For taking me down
And making what was bad good
For spending time with me when no one else would
For all these things you’ve done for me
I thank you
Thank you
Thank you
And I welcome you to my kingdom

Amazing Grace

2006-10-16T09:55:00.000+01:00

I've just come back from a songster weekend in Brighton. I was asked to "do something" for the Sunday evening meeting and the festival on the Saturday night. I wrote this for the Saturday. I got some positive feedback so I thought I'd post it.

Amazing Grace

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
The air, this atmosphere resounds
With joyful prayers, with shouts of glee
But is there any grace for me?

Amazing grace, that which I teach.
That grace, which I, would you beseech
To come to know and revel in.
But will it pardon me my sin?

Amazing grace, which rights all wrongs,
Which comforts fear, inspires songs.
A grace which heals, a grace which serves
Such grace, I know, I don't deserve.

Amazing grace, how can I ask
For anything so pure and vast?
How great an insult it would be
On grace to associate with me.

Amazing grace, that it should seek
To call on me and gently speak
To give my spirit cause to shine.
This grace I have not earned is mine.

Why, then, heart do you resist
A grace as wonderful as this?
Grace which by love for me is driven
A perfect grace so freely given

Change, then, heart and do not shirk
Amazing grace but let it work.
What awesome wonders I would see
If grace were free to work in me.

And on that morning, that glorious day
When Jesus returns I simply pray
That I would recognise His face
Because I knew Amazing grace.

Restaurant - Affair #2

2006-07-19T22:07:00.000+01:00

Michelle Oh Chris. Thank you so much for taking me out tonight. It’s been so…er…nice. Are you sure you don’t mind paying?

Chris Well I wouldn’t be much of a date otherwise now would I?

Michelle Chris we talked about this. Please don’t call it a…a…

Chris A date?

Michelle Yes. That. We shouldn’t call it…that.

Chris (Playfully) Well what is it then?

Michelle Well, it’s just two friends who…

Chris Who have booked a hotel room.

Michelle Yes, well about that…

Chris (Worried that his chance might be slipping away) Look, it just seems that you could do with a bit of romance. (Michelle is looking down. Chris takes her hand and prompts her to look up) Hey. Hey. (She looks up) We are relational beings. We were designed to feel loved. To feel appreciated. To feel desired. And if you’re not feeling that, if you’re not getting that, then there’s nothing wrong with looking for it, even if it means looking outside your marriage. Your husband’s not giving you what you need. It’s only natural that you get it elsewhere.

Michelle (Sounding more convinced) Right. Right. I mean forget him right?

Chris Right.

Michelle I need romance.

Chris Exactly.

Michelle Do you know what his idea of romance is? (The waiter – the same one as Phil and Rosie’s – comes over with the receipt and gives it to Chris to sign. Chris takes his time over it, giving the waiter the opportunity to listen in) The other week I told him that he never did anything romantic. So how does he prove me wrong? He goes out that night, gets completely drunk and goes home to plan this romantic night in. I get home from the late-shift that night to find that my chrysanthemums have been ripped from the front garden and are lying in a mess on the lounge table. Meanwhile, he’s drunkenly belting out Elton John’s Rocketman at the top of his voice and asking me between verses if I’m “in the mood”. Oh and there was the meal of course. Phil’s idea of a romantic dinner? He’d microwaved an egg. I spent the rest of that evening cleaning out all the previous attempts that had exploded in the microwave.

(Chris hands the receipt back to the waiter who is looking at Michelle as if he might recognise her)

Chris (To the waiter) Are you ok?

Waiter Fine sir. Just a touch of déjà vu. (Takes receipt and card and walks off looking confused)

Michelle So anyway, that’s my husband for you.

Chris You know, some men just have no idea how to treat a woman.

Michelle (Starting to flirt) Oh and I suppose you do.

Chris (Confidently) Well, you’ll just have to judge for yourself.

Michelle Oh Chris. Why does this feel so easy? I just feel so relaxed with you. Like I could get away with anything. It’s how I used to feel around Phil. The things he promised me when we got married. Life is all about love, sex and romance he told me. He always knew what to say – what to do – how to cheer me up. Now we can’t stand the sight of each other. Just being in the same room as him puts me on edge. (The waiter returns with the receipt) Everything he says and does irritates me. Everything. Even the smallest and most insignificant of things will set me off. Stupid stuff like…broccoli.

(The penny drops for the waiter. He stares, shocked and open-mouthed, at Michelle. He looks across the restaurant towards Phil and Rosie and then back to Michelle and Chris. He face is a mix between utter disbelief and amusement. He suddenly bolts across the restaurant towards his colleague)

Waiter (Calling out) Tracy! (He trips behind the table of the next conversation. His head pops up from behind the table) Hi there. Are you enjoying your meal?

Bill Well we haven’t ordered ye…

Waiter Excellent. (Dashes off to tell his colleague, leaving us with the next conversation)

The Restaurant - The Affair #1

2006-07-18T14:30:00.000+01:00

(Phil is on the phone. He is walking back to his table from the toilet. Across the restaurant, at her table, Michelle is also talking on the phone. She isn’t making a sound and probably only the most eagle-eyed of audience members will notice it – Michelle should be as subtle as possible at her end (maybe even less animated than the rest of the restaurant). Phil on the other hand should be very animated to make sure the audience’s attention is on him. Phil and Michelle don’t realise that the other is in the restaurant.)

Phil Look, how often do I get to see the guys? One night is all I’m asking. One flippin’ night…..how can you be so unreasonable about this? You’re out at your mother’s. What difference does it make?....Oh for crying out loud the blinking cat can look after itself for one night…well I’ll do the shopping when I get back…Michelle…Michelle I’m begging you do not bring this up again. Don’t do it. Michelle I…Michelle? Hello? Michelle!?! (snapping his mobile shut. Through gritted teeth.) Grgh, that woman. (Takes a seat opposite Rosie). I can’t believe she can get so bent out of shape. All I’m asking is for one night out and she goes spare.

Rosie In fairness, you are out with another woman.

Phil (Thinks about it briefly) Yes but she doesn’t know that.

Rosie Ok well let’s forget about it now and just enjoy the meal.

Phil Right. Sorry. Of course. (Pause) Do you know the last thing she said to me on the phone?

Rosie (Getting fed up) What!?

Phil She told me I had to go and get some broccoli.

Rosie (Sarcastically) The cow!

(The waiter comes over and starts setting up the table around them. He is clearly taking his time so that he can listen in. Phil and Rosie are oblivious to this)

Phil Last week, the next door neighbours needed some broccoli, so I gave them ours. Well I didn’t know she was planning to use it for dinner that night did I? It was a simple mistake. But when she finds out – wow! – anyone would have thought I’d sold the kids.

Rosie (Shocked) You have kids?!

Phil What!? No. That’s not the point. The point is all hell breaks loose over one (suddenly has to stop to think. Uncertainly) bunch of broccoli?

Rosie Is it a sprig?

Phil No I don’t think so. Maybe it’s a tree of broccoli.

Rosie A portion of broccoli?

Waiter I think it’s a head. A head of broccoli. (Phil and Rosie look at him, realising he’s been listening. Awkward pause) I’ll go get your drinks.

Phil Anyway, the point is, she flies off the handle…

Rosie Phil, Phil, please! If this is going to work, you are going to have to stop talking about your wife.

Phil Right. I’m sorry. Sorry.

Rosie That’s alright. It just kinda takes the romance out of it that’s all.

Phil You’re right. I know. I know. (Pause) You know who’s excellent at sucking the romance out of a relationship?

Rosie Your wife?

Phil My wife. (Rosie puts her head on the table in despair. Phil doesn’t notice. The waiter comes back with the drinks.) The other week, she accused me of not being romantic. So, when she came back from work that evening, I had a bunch of chrysanthemums (her favourite flower) waiting on the lounge table. I had our favourite singer, Elton John, playing in the background and I had a beautiful romantic meal all laid out. (At this point, the waiter has placed the drinks and is just standing by the table listening) And do you know what she said to me?

Rosie (Still with her head on the table) Tell me. Please.

Phil She called me pathetic and told me to go to bed. And not even in a romantic, sexy, “I’ll be up in a minute” kind of way. No, she clears up all my hard work and… (noticing the waiter is just standing there, listening)

Waiter (Smiles, embarrassed) Enjoy your drinks (Quickly walks off).

The Restaurant - Family Guy

2006-07-18T14:18:00.000+01:00

Bill Ok – I was going to wait till after the meal but I can’t wait. (Pulls out gift) Happy 1st Anniversary.

Susie Oh Bill. Thank you. (They hug. She opens it. It’s a necklace.) It’s beautiful.

Bill Here. (He takes it from her and attaches it round her neck)

Susie (Looking at it) Thank you honey.

Bill You’re welcome (kisses her on the cheek). Love you.

Susie Love you too.

Bill (Sitting back down and looking at the menu) Ok, so what are you having?

Susie (Still admiring the necklace) Oh I don’t mind sweetheart, you order.

Bill Ok well there’s the steak – you fancy steak?

Susie (Still with the necklace) Hmm. Not really.

Bill Chicken? Salmon? Fajitas? Lamb? Ooh the gammon’s very good here. Remember when we were here last time?

Susie Oh yes I remember. Yeah let’s go for the gammon.

Bill (Noticing something) Huh!

Susie (Absent-mindedly) What?

Bill Oh just noticed this. Before long we’ll be ordering from the kid’s menu.

Susie (Dropping the necklace and rolling her eyes in despair). Oh Bill it was all going so well.

Bill What so I’m not allowed to talk about it at all now?

Susie No. Just not here. Bill please.

Bill Well surely this is the perfect time to talk about it. We’ve been married a year now. We’re out celebrating that. We’re looking to the future and…. Look, Susie, I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world and I want to have your children. (Susie, looks up confused. Bill realises his mistake. Corrects himself). My children. I want you to have my children.

Susie Bill, I love you too. Of course I do. But we’re just not ready. (Bill rolls his eyes) I’m not ready. The next few months are crucial in my career. My company’s looking for a new partner. And I can do it. I know I can. But I have to prove that. I have to prove that I’m committed to the company. And I can’t do that if they think I’m gonna be taking every other year off for maternity leave. Look I’m not saying never but right now is the worst possible time for me to get pregnant.

Bill It’s always the worst possible time for you to get pregnant. Before this it was the big account that you had to close. Then it was the staff shortages. And after this, if you do make partner, well that’s it. I can give up any hope of ever having a family.

Susie Why do we have to this now?

Bill Because life hasn’t started until you’ve got a family. Until you’re the head of a household. Until we have a child who we can love and raise together.

Susie Oh life hasn’t started? You know, two years ago, you proposed and told me that life wasn’t going to start until we were married. After that, life wasn’t going to start until we had our own home. Now life won’t start until we have a child. And will life start then? No. Life won’t start until that child has a little baby brother or a sister. Life won’t start until we have a bigger house with a big garden and a big dog.

Bill (Timidly) I don’t like dogs.

Susie (Ignoring him). Life won’t start until the kids have grown up and gone off to university. Life won’t start until we’re grandparents. Then life won’t really have started until we’re both retired and can while away the hours in the garden slowly going senile. Why don’t you just skip through the whole lot Bill and come straight out with it. Life won’t start until we’re dead.

Bill So what are you saying? That you just want to stay like this for the rest of our lives? Never growing. Never moving forward.

Susie No. Of course not. I’m just saying…life has already started. We’re in it. Now. And you can’t just keep looking forward to the next big thing to fulfil you.

Bill I understand that. I just don’t want the next big thing to pass me by because of something as trivial as the next big job.

Susie You think my having a job is trivial?

Bill No but I think a promotion would be. Why do you need to be a partner? We already make more than enough money already. You getting this job will just mean a lot more hours for a lot more money that we don’t need.

Susie You never said anything about this before.

Bill I just think there are more important things in this life than your career.

Susie Well I think there are more important things in this life that your children.

Waitress (Coming over to take order) You guys know what you want?

Bill (Coldly. Looking at Susie) No. We don’t.

Waitress (Realising she’s just interrupted something) Ok well just let me know when you’re ready.

The Restaurant - Tarot Cards

2006-07-18T14:03:00.000+01:00

Mike You got the cards?

Ed Right here? You’re sure you know what you’re doing?

Mike Of course.

Ed Coz I’m serious about this Mike. I’m not just mucking about here. This can be dangerous if it’s not done properly.

Mike Mate, relax. I’ve done this like a million times. Trust me.

Ed And how comes you don’t have your own cards again?

Mike They’re…er…being serviced.

Ed Serviced?

Mike You know, checking the yin levels, making sure they’re balanced with the yang. All that sort of stuff. It’s like a spiritual MOT for cards.

Ed (sceptical) The yin and yang? Mike are you sure…

Mike (having laid out the cards on the table) Ssh ssh ssh. Let’s begin. Give me your hands. Right now close your eyes. And take a deep breath in…and out…and in…and out. Good good, right, now I want you to empty your mind of all thoughts and feelings. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Just sense. Do you feel like you’re floating?

Ed Not really.

Mike (Taken aback. He was clearly hoping for a floating sensation. Gathering himself). Good. Good. Floating’s bad. Now when you’re ready, I want you to slowly pick up one card at a time and form a single pile in the centre of the table. Just sense which cards to pick up. Let your hands do the thinking. (Ed does so.) Good. Good. (He picks the pile up and fans them out like a magician) Right, now I want you to pick a card.

Ed (opens his eyes) What!?

Mike Any card.

Ed Mike this isn’t how you…

Mike Ssh…just pick a card.

Ed But you’re supposed to…

Mike (forcefully) Pick one!!

Ed (slowly and sceptically takes a card from the deck)

Mike Ok now look at your card

Ed (doing so) What!?

Mike Ok now don’t show me. Don’t show me.

Ed You’ve given me death.

Mike (throwing the cards down) Oh well if you’re gonna flippin’ ruin it.

Ed THIS ISN’T A MAGIC TRICK!!

Mike Of course it isn’t. You showed me your card.

Ed What is the point? What is the point? Why did I believe, even for a second, that you would take this seriously? Of course you can’t tell the future, you can barely tell the time.

Mike You’re a very negative person.

Ed You’re an idiot.

Mike (noticing one of the cards and picking it up to show Ed) Hehe. This one looks like a donkey.

Ed Why do I bother? (noticing the waitress) Excuse me? Can we get the bill please?

Waitress Certainly sir.

Ed Thank you.

The Gardener #3 - Thomas

2006-05-01T21:43:00.000+01:00

You know, work’s been pretty slow the past couple of weeks since the whole Jesus coming back from the dead thing. The whole city’s been getting whipped up about it. Rumours and stories about Jesus are flying round left, right and centre. I guess people have got better things on their mind than the current state of their garden. It’s alright. I could do with the rest. Put me feet up. Catch up on all the gossip. And there’s been a lot of gossip.

For example, one of Jesus’ disciples, Thomas (some people call him Didymus – I’m not sure why). People have been laying into him the past couple of days. Basically, the story goes: Jesus appears to his disciples while Thomas is out, I dunno, buying eggs or something. Now when Thomas gets back obviously all the disciples are all excited and they’re telling him about it and he won’t believe them. He thinks they’ve been conned by some Jesus lookalike Stars in Their Eyes contestant or something I dunno. And he says to them, he goes “I will not believe that Jesus is back until I have seen the holes in his hands and side. Until I have physically touched them, I will not believe that it’s Jesus you’ve seen.”

Now a week later Jesus appears to the disciples again and this time Thomas is with them. And apparently Jesus makes a beeline for Thomas. And he looks at him and he says “you wanted to see them well here they are. Touch them, do what you have to but believe. Know that I’m here. Know that this is real.” And then he said to him “you needed this to believe. But there are millions of people out there who are going to have to believe and they won’t get this. They won’t get this. And I’m going to bless those people”.

And people have been criticising Thomas since word got out about it calling him faithless and disloyal and saying that he should’ve believed… But I met Thomas a couple of times. He’s a good guy you know? And he was completely loyal to Jesus. I mean he gave up everything to follow him. He believed so much in Jesus and in Jesus’ mission that he devoted his whole life to it. And maybe that was the problem. I mean imagine it… he’s given up everything he has to follow a man who he believes – who he’s been promised – is going to change the world. And imagine seeing that man humiliated and killed by the very institution that he said he was going to destroy and rebuild. I mean hey, we know what happens next right? But as far as Thomas is concerned everything that he’s believed in has let him down. You put yourself in that position. My guess is you’d be a little more reluctant to hang your hopes on outrageous stories no matter who they came from.

People round these parts might not understand that. But Jesus understood. I mean he turned up. He showed himself. I don’t think he’d have done that if he thought Thomas was just being petty. But he also understood that people are going to have to follow him without ever seeing him in the physical sense. And he understood – understands – that that won’t be easy. It won’t be easy.

The Gardener #2 - Mary

2006-05-01T21:41:00.000+01:00

So I went into work on Sunday fully expecting to have to fight my way through crowds of people. You know, mobs of followers and disciples waiting to pay their respect at the tomb; scores of centurions keeping them at bay. It wouldn’t have surprised me if I’d got there to find a riot had broken out. To be perfectly honest I wasn’t expecting to get much work done.

But when I did get there – nothing. No crowds, no guards, no barriers… no dead Messiah. Just gone. The stone had been moved and the body… vanished. Just an empty garden. Apart from one woman…Mary…standing there…weeping. It was as if her whole world had just caved in around her. Her master – her saviour – the man who she loved more than life itself – was dead. And now even his body had been stolen.

Or so she thought before he popped up and tapped her on the shoulder.

He starts off by asking her what’s wrong. Now at first she doesn’t recognise him – she thinks he’s me. She even asks him, you know, “have you seen Jesus? Have you moved him? Just tell me and I’ll go and get him” you know, I mean she is desperate. And he’s just standing there in front of her and she ain’t got a clue. Now I’ve probably been unfair on the poor girl recently, taking the mick for not twigging that it was him and all. But she was emotional, she had tears in her eyes it would have been blurry… And if I’m entirely honest, it’s not as if I recognised him either. I mean, he looked different somehow you know? And be fair you hardly expect three-day-old corpses to be prancing around gardens asking you questions do ya? So I can’t really blame her for not knowing it was him.

But then he said her name. Just that, nothing else, he just said: “Mary”. And she knew. She knew it were him. You should have seen her face – it was like she’d just been punk’d or something – you know? She was on another planet. It was amazing. But then he says to her, he says “don’t hold onto me coz I’ve not yet gone back to my father. But go and tell everyone else that I’m back and I’m going home.

Now this is the weird bit. Coz if that had been me, I’d have stayed. I wouldn’t have gone off no matter who told me. This guy’s been dead all weekend and now he’s back? I’d have…clung onto his leg or something. But she goes. And not even begrudgingly, she’s skipping off down the road, she’s full of it. Her master has told her to go and she just goes. And I just don’t get that, you know? She’s just got what she couldn’t dare to hope for. And she leaves him – ecstatic – because he tells her to. I just don’t get that.

The Gardener

2006-05-01T21:32:00.000+01:00

Hey hey hey. Just got back from Roots which was pretty cool. Matt asked me to write three short monologues to be performed over the weekend at various points. Only having a week in which to do them, however, made it kinda challenging so it was all a bit rushed. This first one was particularly difficult to learn for some reason and I stumbled over a lot of it on the Friday night. I wasn't feeling all that great about it but then got a really positive response from people afterwards. So here it is...

The Gardener

As a gardener you tend to get about. I do freelance work mostly so I’m all over the shop. I’ve done ‘em all. Jews, Romans, tax collectors, political officials. I do private, public… Round these parts, people know that if you want a decent display, Frank’s your man. I mean I’m hardly world famous but round here, people know me. And when you’re working in people’s garden’s you get talking. And after a while… people start to tell me things. I don’t know why exactly but everyone trusts the gardener. Well, who am I going to tell other than the chrysanthemums right? So I’m told certain things. I overhear certain other things… And when you’re working in people’s private gardens – doing window displays that sort of thing – you see a lot of things that probably aren’t meant to be seen. You wouldn’t think it to look at me but I know more about what goes on in this city than the Romans do.

If you want the gossip, come to Frank.

Which is why I suppose I’ve had everyone asking me about what happened that Sunday a couple of weeks back. I mean you’ve heard the rumours by now right? Jesus – the controversial rabbi – who was crucified and buried about this time a fortnight ago? They say he’s back. Raised from the dead to… carry on his mission, get revenge on the people who killed him, prove that he could do it? I dunno. I can tell you this much though. They’re more than just rumours.

I’d been asked to work on the Arimathea tomb after Jesus had been buried there on the Friday. I’ve done a lot of work for Joseph in the past so he asked me to take care of it. Now, it was too late to start anything on the Friday and Saturday, of course was the Sabbath (I don’t care what you believe, you don’t work on a rabbi’s tomb on the Sabbath). So I was going to start work on it on the Sunday. Only I never quite got that far.

I get to the garden on the Sunday morning and there in the distance I see the tomb. It’s open. It’s empty. And outside stands this woman, crying. No prizes for guessing who. Mary Magdalene. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’d been standing in that same spot since Friday night. Well, obviously she hadn’t or she’d have known what had happened. Seeing her there, I didn’t know what to do. She was crushed. And understandably. I figured it was grave-robbers. It happens… But not this time. Coz then… Jesus appeared.

Now, I have to say, if I were Jesus, I don’t think I’d show myself to Mary first. For a start, she’s not exactly the sharpest tool in the box. I mean, for example, that morning, the first time she sees Jesus – her Lord and master – He who she has devoted her life to, right? She thinks he’s me. “Frank” she says to him – catch this – “Frank” she says “have you moved Jesus?”. Now some might say it’s an easy mistake to make. After all, Jesus is well known for being a 5ft7, clean-shaven, Caucasian white blonde – yeah – we’re practically twins. I mean don’t get me wrong, of all his followers she had to be the most – loyal. I mean she was at his trial, his death, his burial. Maybe she deserved to see him first. I dunno. I just think he could have picked someone with a bit more street-cred to tell everyone else that he’s back. I mean, she hasn’t got the best reputation. Yeah it’s all in the past sure but if a recently bereaved woman who is rumoured to have once been a demon possessed prostitute tells you that the man who you know for a fact has been whipped, crucified and stabbed through the heart is now walking about dressed as a gardener, you’re gonna have your reservations.

Having said that, there are some who wouldn’t believe no matter who told ‘em.

For example, it turns out that after he appeared to Mary, Jesus makes an appearance in front of his disciples as they’re hiding from the Jewish officials. Now Thomas, one of his disciples, good guy, I did his geraniums once. He wasn’t there at the time. So when he gets in all the others are buzzing and they’re telling him that they’ve seen Jesus and he’s back and they’re all worked up and laughing and excited… And Thomas, being one of their brothers – one of them – gets caught up in it all and gets all excited and overjoyed about his master being back from the dead right? Does he heck. He takes one look at the bowl of mushrooms on the dinner table and decides they’ve all gone nuts. And he says this to them, he says “I will not believe that he’s back until I’ve put my fingers in the holes in his hands and side”.

Last week, from what I hear, he got his wish. He saw Jesus. He touched his wounds and he believed. But apparently Jesus said something to him that I haven’t managed to get out of my head since I heard it. It was something like: “you’ve had to see me in order to believe. But there are those who are going to have to believe in me without seeing. And those people – they will be blessed.”

You know, I can’t help thinking. I was there. You know? I saw him. But what if I hadn’t? Would I believe? I mean all I’d have to go on was the word of some crazy woman and a bunch of fanatics who have probably kept themselves locked up too long. I mean if it was one of the Roman officials or one of the High Priests then maybe but these guys… Is anyone gonna believe them? I guess we’ll just to have to wait and see.

To Tell You the Truth...

2006-05-01T21:00:00.000+01:00

Last February, Jonathan Byfield asked me to do the bible thought/message for a musical festival hosted by the band and songsters. I wrote this for me and Claire.

(I'm not sure how clear it comes out with bloggers unique method of editing out unnesessary space marks - I haven't been able to include any space between our names and our dialogue)

To Tell You the Truth…

Glyn Ladies and gentlemen,

Claire we stand before you now,

Glyn on a pedestal,

Claire high and towering.

Glyn It’s a pedestal from which we can look down at all you lovely people.

Claire A pedestal from which you all look like ants.

Glyn A pedestal that has served us for many years.

Claire A pedestal that has been passed down from generation to generation.

Glyn A tall pedestal.

Claire A strong pedestal.

Glyn An indestructible pedestal.

Claire Well…

Glyn kind of.

Claire To tell you the truth,

Glyn if we’re completely honest,

Claire it’s a bit…

Glyn a bit…

C&G old!

Claire Time has not been good to our pedestal.

Glyn It’s chipped

Claire and cracked

Glyn and a little bit wobbly.

Claire But we stand before you now,

Glyn on our pedestal,

Claire insecure as it is,

Glyn ready to impart some wisdom,

Claire speak some truth

Glyn and shed some light onto you,

Claire the ground-dwellers.

(Grin. Pause. Exchange glances. Grin fades)

Glyn At least that was the plan.

Claire You see…

Glyn the thing about our pedestal is…it’s…

Claire it’s…

Glyn Well to tell you the truth,

Claire if we’re completely honest,

Glyn it’s collapsed.

Claire Flattened

Glyn Completely

Claire Nothing but a pile of rubble.

Glyn Rubble that was once a fine pedestal.

Claire But is now…just…

Glyn …rubble.

Claire So,

Glyn ladies and gentlemen,

Claire we stand before you now,

Glyn in the shallow hole that was once the foundation of our pedestal,

Claire smiling up at you,

Glyn the ground-dwellers,

Claire asking for just a moment of your time,

Glyn so that we might tell you that,

Claire despite our current trench-residing situation,

Glyn we’re doing just great.

Claire We’ve chosen to embrace this hole.

Glyn To see it as an opportunity for growth.

Claire Real character building stuff.

Glyn God has placed us in this hole,

Claire so that we might dig a much deeper hole,

Glyn which will form the foundation of our next pedestal.

Claire So we approach the circumstances regarding our hole prayerfully,

Glyn doctrinally,

Claire and with the greatest humility.

Glyn Right!

Claire Right?

Glyn Yeah!

Claire Yeah?

Glyn Sure!

Claire Sure?

Glyn Weeeeell…to tell you the truth,

Claire if we’re completely honest,

Glyn we’ve not taken to our recent hole-shaped opportunity as gracefully as you might have thought.

Claire Since the expiration of our pedestal, things haven’t exactly been easy.

Glyn We’ve…struggled.

Claire We’ve slipped up on occasion.

Glyn Our attitude could maybe have been better.

Claire Perhaps.

Glyn Perhaps.

Claire Our prayer life may not be as passionate as it once was.

Glyn Our bible study not quite as disciplined.

Claire Our Christian standard of living not so…

Glyn not quite so…

Claire to tell you the truth

Glyn if we’re completely honest,

Claire we’re not doing very well at all.

Glyn We get scared.

Claire And angry.

Glyn And irrational.

Claire And insecure.

Glyn We lie.

Claire And doubt.

Glyn And lust.

Claire Well…

Glyn I lust.

Claire We obsess over self-image.

Glyn We panic about things that shouldn’t worry us

Claire We blame others for our mistakes.

Glyn We blame God for everyone’s mistakes.

Claire We get depressed.

Glyn And anxious.

Claire And selfish.

Glyn And insensitive.

Claire To say that all our actions are inspired by God and motivated by love would be…

Glyn well it would be generous

Claire to say the least.

Glyn To tell you the truth,

Claire if we’re completely honest,

Glyn we are,

Claire in no uncertain terms,

Glyn a bit of a mess.

Claire So,

Glyn ladies and gentlemen,

Claire we stand before you now,

Glyn in a mess,

Claire to let you know that despite our shortcomings,

Glyn and failings,

Claire and flaws,

Glyn we are,

Claire in fact,

Glyn in pretty good company.

Claire Ladies and gentlemen,

Glyn we present to you,

Claire the bible,

Glyn which is filled with flawed misfits.

Claire For example,

Glyn Jacob:

Claire Deceitful.

Glyn Gideon:

Claire Coward.

Glyn Samson:

Claire Co-dependent.

Glyn Rahab:

Claire Immoral.

Glyn David:

Claire Sex mad.

Glyn Elijah:

Claire Suicidal.

Glyn Jeremiah:

Claire Depressed.

Glyn Jonah:

Claire Disobedient.

Glyn John the Baptist:

Claire Eccentric.

Glyn Peter:

Claire Impulsive and hot-tempered.

Glyn Zacchaeus:

Claire A liar and a cheat.

Glyn Thomas:

Claire Doubter.

Glyn And yet God,

Claire in a various number of God like ways,

Glyn managed to use them all.

Claire In his second letter to the Corinthians,

Glyn chapter 12

Claire verses 7-10,

Glyn Paul says this:

Claire To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.

Glyn Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me.

Claire But he said to me:

Glyn “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Claire Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

Glyn That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.

Claire For when I am weak,

Glyn then I am strong.

Claire Ladies and gentlemen,

Glyn we stand before you now,

Claire laid bare,

Glyn to inform you that whatever success we might have,

Claire whatever we might achieve,

Glyn whatever we just happen to get right,

Claire we can assure you,

Glyn that to tell you the truth,

Claire if we’re completely honest,

Glyn it has absolutely nothing to do with us.

A Desperate Prayer

2006-04-22T21:56:00.000+01:00

I started writing this about six or so months ago but was inspired to finish it a few months later after a conversation with Claire when we were both going through a bit of a rough patch. I have to say I'm pretty undecided on this one. Sometimes I read it through and love it. Other times I think it's crap.

A Desperate Prayer

What must I do Lord to know what to do?

What should I pray to keep praying?

When I am pleading to be close to you

What is it I should be saying?

When I am too proud to want to be wrong Lord

Too sex-crazed to want to be pure

What must be done for my soul to be strong Lord?

Where do I look for the cure?

And when I am scared Lord crippled by fear

When anxiety strikes and takes hold

When I'm unprepared Lord, knocked out of gear

When I'm down Lord and ready to fold

When all that I used to rely on has gone

When I can't trust my own state of mind

When I can't help but feel that I've suffered too long

When I'm hopelessly lost Lord and blind

When all of my prayers seem to fall on deaf ears

When it seems you can't hear or don't care

When you seem far away and unmoved by my tears

When you don't even seem to be there.

What should be said when I'm down on my knees Lord?

Which are the words that you'll hear?

What phrase should I use when I'm begging You "please Lord"

And longing to know You are near?

Is it enough Lord to speak from the heart?

Would You rather I quote from a psalm?

Must I score high on some heavenly chart

Or win you over with charm?

Am I trying too hard Lord or not hard enough?

Should I stand, kneel or lie on the ground?

Is my language too lavish, my questions too rough?

Are they not theologically sound?

Answer me, please Lord, before it's too late

Before I'm completely undone

Before I'm consumed with self-loathing and hate

And forget I was ever Your son.

Stop me, dear father, before I jump ship

I'm on the edge Lord, pull me back

Whisper You love me and tighten Your grip

And set me off firmly on track.

I'm longing to know how to know You as friend

I'm desperate to open my heart

I know You won't tell me, Lord, where I will end

But please, father, where do I start?

Red Ribbons

2006-04-22T21:28:00.000+01:00

Red ribbons
Dripping, smudging, growing, oozing,
Relieving, distracting, consuming, amuzing.
Justification in little drops
Something to hide while the ribbon clots
A back up plan for when the laughter stops
And something worth crying about.

Red ribbons
In threes, in ones, in lines, in curves,
In crosses, in statements, in patterns, in words.
Further proof that no-one knows
A desperation that never shows
As water drains, the ribbon flows
Accompanied by a silent shout.

How to be Normal

2006-04-21T13:40:00.000+01:00

I wrote this when I was at Central (in my second year so it would have been 2002/03). I wrote it intending to read it out in the student bar on one of the open mike nights but the opportunity never came up which, if I'm honest, was a relief. Looking back now I can't help but wander if I'd have had the guts to recite this in front of a large group of drunk and (most likely) stoned drama students.

How to be Normal

I must wake up, I must go to school
I must act the fool, I must be sensible
I must read, I must write
I must need, I must fight
For my right to spend the night
With my friends so that I can be cool.

I must smoke, I must drink
I must dope, I must think
About being healthy with clean lungs
And wealthy - top of the dung
Heap with heaps of money. Don't be funny
But I must tell a few jokes
I must scramble the eggs without breaking the yolks.

I must pass the test, do my best
Beat the rest and be the best
I must expand my chest, I must look good in a vest
I must work 24/7, I must save room for a rest
I must disturb the nest, I must avoid arrest
I must play the jerk, who needs to work?
Just find yourself a treasure chest.

I must be the same, must be an individual
Must play the game but I must find one that's original.

I must be clever, I must scheme
I must keep my feet on the ground, I must have a dream
I must be clean but not be neat
I must be seen to be discreet.

I must be honest, I must lie
I must effortlessly try
Must be the best at being worst
Must have a drink then die of thirst
I must stories with meaning
And poems with feeling
I must find space that is teeming
I must stand while I'm kneeling.

I must be crazy and sane and hazy and vain
I must say that I'm free while I'm hiding my chains
I must loosen my grip to slacken the reigns
I must mend and pretend that I can't feel the pain
Coz if I say that I'm wrong then what do I gain
I can't take the risk of choosing one lane.

I must say that I worship more than one God
Coz one of them's real and it increases the odds.
Why have one faith in one God without even blinking
It's easier to have more than one way of thinking
Forget the fact that they are all contradicting
And really the cause for the pain we're inflicting.

You see there is one direction there is just one road to take
But when I say I'm a Christian, you hear I am a fake
You see I've found a way, and I can get to the top
"Oh Postmodernism" - That crap's about giving up.

You don't think that people out there genuinely know truth?
That they can take a leap of faith without scientific proof?
And you think that when they pray their words are stopped by the roof?
And that they're worshipping a God who's far away and aloof?

"Coz yeah we've searched for answers". Well in sex, drugs and fists
And when they haven't been found there well then how can they exist?
"But come on we don't need a God, we love life, embraced it."
Well tell me if you're so darn happy what's the need to get wasted.
I don't mean to offend you I know I must sound enthused
It just upsets me when I see how much we've got things confused
Coz life is refused and we are all left bemused
When we think we can choose but then we're just being used.

You see our choice has been taken
By a world that is faking and making us believe that life is ours for the taking
You see society's shaken
You wander why it is breaking?
Coz we like to say we're free but I'm afraid we're mistaken.

Coz we live in a world in which we're told to conform
"Of course you can be different - as long as you fit the norm"
We're told just how to dress and how to speak and how to behave
I must be mad and sad and glad and bad all in the same day.

You see we're all tied up, we're all bogged down all slaves of oppression
To sin, did I say sin? No, that's the kind of expression
That leaves us guessing - and so we call it old fashioned
And then refuse to be accused of ever being empassioned.

But when I say that I have found a right way out of this hole
You say "well ok, I guess that's one to go"
You see I'm scum but then I'm saved coz of the grace I'm receiving
A faith in Jesus isn't something that's just "nice to believe in"
It's empowering - it will your whole life renew
God gives me strength to do the things I never thought I could do
So give your life a review, check out the evidence
My God is present and is future, so much more than past tense
He offers love and forgiveness, will take you down off the fence
Now surely just to check it out would be common sense
But no!

I must be silent, I must be loud
I must get lost in the crowd
I must buy without spending
I must be truthfully pretending
I must love what I'm hating
I must shove what I'm creating
I must know my own ignorance
I must challenge the conventions of art by reciting words that don't fit with the rhythm of the rest of the poem and don't even rhyme.

I must speak, I must sing
I must sneak, I must sting
I must cheat, I must win
I must greet, I must grin

I must be chased, must be faced
I must say grace, must show some haste
Must wear a brace, must know my place
Must not be chaste but show good taste.

I must be late, be filled with hate
Must then create a word called fate
I must negate and therefore grate
Must take the bait right off the plate
I must debate at any rate
I must relate outside the gate

I must give so I get
I must sleep so I sweat
Must stay calm so I fret
I must know so I bet
I must laugh till I cry
I must sit till I lie
Must be low till I'm high
I must live till I die
Now you tell me,

Who am I?