Tutu

In Cape Town, thousands pay their last respects,

Outside St George's queue in heavy rain

To view his simple casket and reflect

A moment, cross themselves, and leave again.

Their Tata lies in state, their grief's sincere:

This fiery little priest who took to task

The mighty for their sins, who showed no fear,

And asked the questions no one else could ask,

They simply knew that he was on their side.

Some there for sure recalled another day –

The Arch was in full flow when doors flung wide

And filing in, their weapons on display,

Policemen lined the walls, recorders live

To capture his incriminating words.

But Tutu spoke and looked them in the eye:

"You're powerful, but know I serve a Lord

Who can't be mocked – you have already lost!"

Then stepping from the pulpit flashed his smile,

"So, I invite you now to come across

And join the winning side!" And every aisle

Erupted into praise! A dancing mass

Spilled out into the streets. Police fell back,

The forces of Apartheid at a loss,

Disarmed by joy. See how the smallest crack

Admits the light of hope, and demons cower!

For Tutu knew that it is not enough

To rail for justice, hammer truth to power:

The victory that lasts belongs to Love.

Forgiveness isn't easy, but it's worth

The grace it takes to sacrifice your right,

And stem the urge to pay back hurt for hurt,

To break the chain of hatred, that despite

The truth of evils done, new hope may form

For healing and for peace. This Tutu knew

Too well, for he had walked that road before.

And as he heard the victims' tales and, too,

Their violators', there and then he wept.

But all who knew this man spoke of his joy,

That cackle, and the sense of fun that kept

Him grounded – that no cancer could destroy.

And now the angels join to line his way,

All blowing vuvuzelas as they jive,­

Now welcoming this saint in royal array

To Jesus’ Rainbow Nation in the sky.

But Tutu’s spirit has not gone away,

The Lord with perfect timing marks his life.

For with a pun too obvious to miss,

(the kind the Arch himself could not resist)

He hints, “To get through 2022,

Just think 2-2 and you’ll know what to do!”

 

Haiku III

 

Interred in the earth,

concealed in black crumbs of death,

a bulb dreams of spring.

Haiku II

 

Late winter, a lake.

The downdraught of unseen wings

disturbs dark waters.

Haiku I

December. Tiny

bug circumnavigating

my hand. Gentleness.

Statues

The gallant sun vaults lightly overhead
But I am stalled. This daze of déjà-days
Has thinned my spirit to a spider-thread.
Imprisoned with myself, my self I face.
What stranger now upbraids my gentle boy
With words so cold? I numbly recognize
The sterile rage, now spitting unalloyed:
Where now the father, genial and wise?
A memory arrives of playground chat.
I made a face, then came the swift retort:
"The wind'll change, and you'll be stuck like that!"
The thought remains, and I am brought up short.
No statue knows the wind upon its face,
But does it feel that final gust of grace?

Reflections on the process of creation from Genesis 1

God's Creative Process

• God is always prior
• Creation is potential
• God is intimately present by His Spirit alongside creation
• God speaks a good word that reflects His good nature, calls forth sthg that is not yet (sometimes its purpose is explicit, sometimes hidden)
• That new reality comes into being (sometimes it springs into being instantly; other times it requires further fashioning) Rom 4:17 "the God in whom he believed, who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist."
• God sees that it is good (n.b. Hebrew tov does not mean 'perfected', far from it, it means packed with further creative potential)
• God distinguishes and separates it from that which it is not (calls it out)
• God names it, endowing it with the dignity of its own being
• It inaugurates/fulfils its purpose 

Our Creative Process

• Sons and Daughters of God are God's image-bearers and partners in bringing in His New Creation, He has chosen to work through them
• They see the hidden Kingdom potential in the wilderness and people around them
• Their personal presence wherever God has placed them, as bearers of the divine image and presence, makes a real difference
• They declare in faith new realities as yet unseen that reflect the goodness and generosity of God
• That new reality is initiated/uncovered in the heavenlies and is inaugurated in the earth
• They and God look on it with faith, encouragement and approval
• They acknowledge and give it its own unique new place in the new creation order
• They name it. In Ge 2:19 we see God's excitement as He shows Adam the creatures He has lovingly made, to see what he will call them. "And whatever the man called every living creature, that was its name." God deliberately leaves aspects of His good creation open to be completed by us, then confirms our free choice. This is our high calling and our deep privilege as His creative image-bearers.
• It inaugurates/fulfils its purpose
• Rest, and repeat with new variations! :)

Key differences

We are not the Creator, so our speech-acts of sub-creation are acts of uncovering what is already potential in God's good creation; but until we unlock them, they are not fully real, not yet "created". Invention is discovery, both of the incredible potentials God has built into His good creation, and of our own genuine creative potential as His image-bearers restored through the grace of His Son. Our Father trusts us to exercise real power and authority in His New Creation, and is excited to see what His children will make of the world He has gifted to them.

Note

As we meditate on all of this, it is vital for God's Word to dwell in us richly, and to keep in close step with His Spirit so as to grow in wisdom, maturity and discernment, and so avoid the errors and excesses of parts of the Word-Faith Movement. We do not merely speak into being whatever we fancy, naming it and claiming it, but, just as we are being remade into the image of Christ, praying and suffering with Him in the wilderness of this world, so we also share in His glory, the joy of beholding in faith a New Creation unfolding, speaking it into being with Him who has called us out of darkness into His wonderful light :)

Bezalel ben-Uri ben-Hur (repost) Ex 31:1–6

Called by name into My shadow,
Son of Uri, Son of Hur,
From the royal tribe of Judah,
You will undertake the work.

Flowing with My Spirit’s wisdom,
Knowing tricks from every trade,
Understanding things unfathomed,
Shadow Me, My protégé.

There is nothing you can’t tackle,
Son of Fire, my brightest spark:
You will build My Tabernacle,
You will make My Holy Ark.

Son of White, uncharted canvas,
Craftsman of the Tribe of Praise,
In your hands My Spirit dances,
Virtuosity ablaze.

As you prise My pure Menorah
From a solid, gleaming block,
I’ll delight in your bravura,
Scent the worship in your work.

Cherubim and almond blossom,
Might and beauty wrought in gold;
Universe in microcosm,
Body of My Word foretold.

With you I’ve equipped another,
Made to serve the Father’s Tent,
Son of a Supportive Brother,
Lo, Oholiab I’ve sent –

You’re the gaffer, he’s the gopher,
You’re his mentor, he’s your man;
You’re conductor, I’m composer,
He’s the leader of the band.

Not for pedigree I picked him,
From the doubtful Tribe of Dan: 
All whose hearts I’ve given wisdom
Lend their talents to My plan.

Wisdom laid the Earth’s foundations,
Understanding raised the skies,
Knowledge loosed the hidden oceans,
Coaxed the evening dew to rise.

Wisdom oversees the building,
Understanding girds the roof,
Knowledge furnishes it, gilding
All its treasure-store with truth.

Children of My inspiration,
Made as makers, take your part,
Spell the letters of creation,
Test your tools and make a start.

Carpenters and curtain-weavers,
Artists, seamstresses and smiths,
Joiners, jewellers and engravers,
Come and harmonise your gifts. 

Hallow Me in your profession,
Saw and dovetail, Spirit-led,
Carve the furniture of Heaven,
Hammer gold to shining thread.

Weave the pattern I have chosen,
As you strain with every strand,
You will find your lives are woven,
Twined together by My hand. 

I am making you My People,
Wield My colours, let them sing;
White and scarlet, blue and purple,
Wholeness flows from Heaven’s King.

You will build My holy dwelling,
Not in Egypt, slaves oppressed,
But as workers, wise and willing,
Rising from your Sabbath rest.

You will pitch My Tent of Meeting,
Not in Canaan, honey-fed,
But as desert drifters seeking,
Daily humbled, Heaven’s bread.

Year by year, I’ll teach you freedom,
Hone your hearts with patient care,
I the artist, you the medium,
For the Promised Land prepared.

Not for forging senseless idols 
Did I fashion you from clay;
You’re My images designed to
Riff, proliferate and play!

Masterpieces of My Glory,
Shadows of the One to come,
Tell the world another story,
Something new beneath the sun.