*Epiphany Two*
The way to Woodland climbs for four miles.
January has painted a brilliant, bleak scene
using raw materials of pasture, stone and tar macadam
glinting with a patina of mist-mottled frost.
At Holy Communion, cockerels crowing competitively
cannot disrupt our hearty singing
in the century old Tin Tabernacle
on its hill top perch
but bookend the silences after sermon and prayers.
As with old Eli and Samuel at Shiloh
the light of God’s presence burns on.
The absent tribe may be doing
what is right in its own eyes,
but is remembered.
The Liturgy calls us into a still sharper focus.
There is one overall anointed leader
who has come down into our frosty, blighted world
with telling warmth.
As we leave the chill is easing both inside and out.
*(C) David Grieve 2006*
Ten years or more of Higher Education, 7 years of Ordained Ministry in the Church of England... and now I'm managing to combine both, parish priest and university chaplain. It's a wonderful life. (Oh yes it is!)