A Poem for My Children, by Adrian G R Scott

I am not sure how well
I fathered you; only
you can tell, and I
am scared to ask.

As you grew
we played the hide
and seek of spring,
tucking you to bed
I glimpsed gloom
and glow in your dreams,
and we voyaged the seas
of juvenescence that
are always sailed before
the maps can be made.

At Christmas I was
Santa, you mistook
me for the crimson king,
kissing me with innocent
lips, eyes shining before
the Herod of adulthood
carried off your infancy.

I waged the grown-up war
only to make you casualties.
For that and many other failings
as a father, je suis désolé. 

In recompense and to offset
my faults, I want you to
know how the world has
made itself known to me.

Life will not present itself
to you like low-hanging
fruit in easy orchards.
Sadly others will get
the applause as you stand
in the wings and watch,
but trust me, plaudits
are a masquerade.

Your life is within,
a fine filament
that arises in your
given soul. This is the
place the great tales
speak of; where
the tenderness of your
regrets will beckon
to a desperate crossing
and a dark doorway.

Then you,
like Theseus,
will find that to face a
minotaur you follow
that glimmering strand
to the wounded bird
of your vulnerability
laying between his
subtle hooves.

In that meeting
the monster will
be your teacher,
unveiling in you
the unquenchable
font of life.

Then you will never
have to ask a stranger
to tell you who you are;
you will have stepped
onto your spot-lit mark,
and the soft memory
of my voice will
be your prompt. 

From The Call of the Unwritten, Adrian G R Scott, ISBN 978-1-4461-3806-9.

Book Review - Take This Bread, by Sara Miles

Just finished reading this beautiful autobiography and confession of faith by Sara Miles. This is one of the best books I've read in the last few years. It's delightful, brutally honest, profane, earthy, profound, sacred, joyous and confused in equal measures.

The author was raised an atheist, is a lesbian and mother of a daughter, who strolled into a church in San Francisco one day for no particular reason, took the eucharist, was transformed on the spot and spent the next years trying to work out what had happened - in both senses of the words "working out."

While doing that, she took her lifelong interest in food, both for its own sake and as a means of making community in poor zones and war zones, and established a hugely successful food program for the urban poor of San Francisco, understanding the feeding of the people as being the reality behind the sacred meal as it is celebrated in the Christian church.

There are some fabulous descriptions of what happens when the "wrong" people start to turn up at church - the hungry, the homeless, the crazy, the addicted, the cantankerous, the lazy, the greedy and the sick. And of course, fighting the "right" people along the way and learning that grace extends to everyone, however unloveable and on whichever side of the spectrum they are.

If any book is likely to get me to understand holy communion as being most certainly not the property of the churches, this is it. Let's get the communion service back out of church and back among the people.

You can find it here.

Update on Saturday, December 14, 2013 at 10:40AM by Peter Neary-Chaplin

I've also just completed her second book, Jesus Freak, which documents her continuing journey into the pursuit of Jesus in dangerously different directions than those normally taught and spoken about in normal churches. THese are remarkable stories from a most unusual woman who is just getting on with expressing love of humanity by feeding and caring for people, whoever they might be and completely disregarding any notion of worthiness or merit. The old, the gay, the sick, the crazy, the liars, the druggies, the repulsive, the stinking, the bleeding, the wounded, the crushed, the misfits and outsiders.

How about a Misfit Communion service, I ask myself? And her advice to me is "You don't need permission. Just get on with it."

Have a beautiful Christmas, everyone, good fit or misfit.