Tune Charterhouse RS 33

Open the word to beauty and all wonder. 
Open our hearts to story broken, bruised. 
Open the world of hope and joyful welcome. 
Open our wires to conversations new. 

Look forward, hear of faith's long re-adventure. 
Look out to see the word explored to life. 
Look in upon the passion of a dreamer,
Look onward, glimpse a world where freedom flows. 

Now pen the fear of chaos and of anger. 
Now pen the accents of lament, despair. 
And shout the whisper of God's re-creation
And speak the word of healing and repair. 

Inspire our lives to loving word in action. 
Inspire our song, to sing of grace-filled faith
And send us now to witness to God's glory,
Reformed, reforming people come alive.

Craig Muir, Windermere, October 2010

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This Christmas I shall be concentrating on Matthew's nativity and therefore Joseph's tale of an Angelic announcement. Unable to find a Christmas Carol that looked at things from Joseph's perspective I set out to write one which expressed something of what it is to be an adopted father and therfore caring for someone elses child. I found myself working in a tricky metre - but that just adds to the challenge!

What follows is as ever a work in progress and your comments/suggested revisions will be appreciated

Metre 7677

Tune Peur Nobis RS 169

Sing a song of Joseph’s fear

Braving looks disgraceful

Hear the news that “God’s with us”

and make a place of welcome

Sing a verse of Joseph’s trust,

Taking in the grace-child

Catch the rumour “God’s with us”,

Adopted by all children

Ring a bell of Angels’ song

Pealing praise and laughter

Sing out clearly “God’s with us”

and rend the place asunder.   (with appropriate nod to Percy Dearmer)

Sing a hymn of Joseph’s pride

Fearing’s been disabled.

Tell our story “God’s with us”

where fatherhood is chosen.

Sing an air of Joseph’s joy

Caroling so graceful.

Gently cradled God with us

Extend the place of welcome

Craig Muir 2010

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In 1997 I wrote a series of poems inspired by the weekly pilgrimage around Iona. In last weeks visit I decided it was time to re-visit that idea and see what a new version might look like. Once a few more of the group have posted their photographs on flikr I may well illustrate the poem with some pictures - but for now I will let the words stand on their own.

Pilgrimage 2010

Warm welcome is piped,

our departure sung,

and onlookers stand in curious gaze.

We have lost count

of heavens deft touch

and the delicate way earth responds.

Open silent walls,

Yet sisters tell tales

and remember scented flowering verbs.

We heard Sophia’s

affirming new voice

and tread silently, silently on.

At the meeting place

a people worked hard,

and parted for distant new found land shores.

Our race died here

or else embraced life

moving past the place of no return.

Following waymarkers

over hidden stones

and a misty uncertain horizon.

Tell old stories

to seek a new cause,

soaring beyond imagination.

Idle rusted tool

hides joyful primrose

and rich veined marble shards wait to be gleaned.

Unseen work stands

at nations centre

and heads homeward as loving token.

At Columba’s bay

tiny cairn is built

and a well worn myth climbs inviting cliffs.

We are made new

with un-thrown stones

carried boldly into mission’s soul.

Conversation flows,

languages collide

a coloured stranger is wasted unused.

Enrichment stalls

fresh life is ungiven,

we say prayers and sup Adam’s clear Ale.

At the barbed runrig,

pure pleasure is clubbed,

and natural returns as farms decline.

We have made chains

and broken old links

singing new songs of justice and faith.

Hilltop look out post

mountaintop echoes

crying for well remembered dreams lived out.

Not in wild currents,

but in chuckling song

and blithe reply to prodigal reign.

Silently

bog-step

gate-close

insect-hum

wrapped in a mantle

of whisper.

Ancestors dancing

James and Isa

Dan and Annie

Helen, Betty

Morag and Barbara

Naming our saints

Piping our welcome

Singing our heavenly touch.

News comes slowly here

and a wee girl dances

as Mum sings of unmourned detainees.

Innocent hope

welcomes fresh future

even as death stalks friend and stranger.

And we turn inland,

to life left behind,

renewed somehow in a quick sideways glance.

Clearing poetry

Shaking images

of grace-filled welcome at stranger’s gate.

© Craig Muir 2010

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