RESPONSE TO THE WORD
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Category Archives: light
EVERY KIND OF LOVE
GOD OF LOVE, inventor of every kind of love and magnetism, we give thanks for miracles – William Cleary
MELDED
MELDED | art/simonicus
VERITAS
veritas | art/simonicus
MORE EPIPHANIES …
WHAT A PRICELESS SEASON Epiphany-tide is! It flags up for us that life – all year round – is full to bursting of “sudden and startling revelations that stop us in our tracks and ask us to think again”. Here are some audio-links to just a fraction of the reflecting we’ve been doing, of the epiphanies that have come to us, in Bramhall this morning …
“We’re the organ pipes that make the organ’s music” - Fr Simon here
“Les Miserables and the opening of my heart“ – Yvonne Hope here
YOUR GIFT IS YOUR LIGHT
A WRITER so wants to write about this. But the light and the music and the girl and the dance tell their own story. Let the writer be stilled then. Let the writer contemplate being contemplated. Let the writer watch and pray today …
ICE HOT
SHELTER
THE MUSIC here is exquisite – but what fascinates and delights me, just as much, is the quiet stillness and attentiveness of the little assembly that – my imagination suggests – recognises the incomparable value of such sound and such moments for healing and grace. One of the most valuable books I’ve read in the last five years is Lucy Winkett’s Our Sound is Our Wound. Recommended. But silence, stillness or just hitting the replay button on this little video are recommended too. Thanks to the archangel who pointed me to it 
AND DID WORSHIP
ALL THIS HE SAW, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered.
‘Rat!’ he found breath to whisper, shaking. ‘Are you afraid?’
‘Afraid?’ murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love. ‘Afraid! Of Him? O, never, never! And yet— and yet— O, Mole, I am afraid!’
Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship.
Sudden and magnificent, the sun’s broad golden disc showed itself over the horizon facing them; and the first rays, shooting across the level water-meadows, took the animals full in the eyes and dazzled them. When they were able to look once more, the Vision had vanished, and the air was full of the carol of birds that hailed the dawn.
The Piper at the Gates of Dawn
from Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows
All Saints / Souls-tide 2012
PURPLE
I LOVE THE COLOUR in this clematis, captured against – for a brief moment – a suddenly cornflower blue sky. The heavy black cloud banked behind me as I captured this shot added atmosphere and particularly distinctive colour to the scene in Greystoke village centre.
