Saturday 28 June 2014

Great Spirit


                         'Appeal to the Great Spirit' - statue in Woodward Park, Tulsa, Oklahoma.
                                                            Photograph by Caleb Long

Great Spirit, you are everything,
and yet above everything.
You are first and always have been.
Through you our children will have strong hearts
and they will walk the straight path in a sacred manner.
Help me to walk the sacred path of life without difficulty
with my mind and heart continually fixed on you.

Lakota prayer St.Joseph's Indian School, Chamberlain, South Dakota.

Wednesday 25 June 2014

Eyes of Soul



The news spread through the city and along the shore that Judah's king had come, and multitudes drew near to press his hand.

And Jesus said, I cannot show the king, unless you see with eyes of soul, because the kingdom of the king is in the soul.

And every soul a kingdom is.  There is a king for every man.

This king is love, and when this love becomes the greatest power in life, it is the Christ; so Christ is king.

And every one may have this Christ dwell in his soul, as Christ dwells in my soul.

The body is the temple of the king, and men may call a holy man a king.

He who will cleanse his mortal form and make it pure, so pure that love and righteousness may dwell unsullied side by side within its walls, is king.

The kings of earth are clothed in royal robes, and sit in state that men may stand in awe of them.

A king of heaven may wear a fisher's garb; may sit in mart of trade; may till the soil, or be a gleaner in the field; may be a slave in mortal chains;

May be adjudged a criminal by men; may languish in a prison cell; may die upon a cross.

Men seldom see what others truly are.  The human senses sense what seems to be, and that which seems to be and that which is, may be diverse in every way.

The carnal man beholds the outer man, which is the temple of the king, and worships at his shrine.

The man of God is pure in heart; he sees the king; he sees with eyes of soul:

And when he rises to the plane of Christine consciousness, he knows that he himself is king, is love, is Christ, and so is son of God.

You men of Galilee, prepare to meet your king.

And Jesus taught the people many lessons as he walked with them beside the sea.

                                     Chap.71 v.3-18 inc. from 'The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ' by Levi

Saturday 21 June 2014

Saint Alban

Today is the Summer Solstice, in my location Sunrise was at 0428hrs. and Sunset will be at 2149hrs. giving a day length of 17.20hrs..


                                                Stained glass window in St.Alban's Cathedral.

Tomorrow, June 22nd., is the saint's day of Saint Alban - the first English martyr in Roman Britain - he was beheaded in the Roman city of Verulamium (now St.Albans,Hertfordshire,England) in the 3rd. century.

In the early 1970's I joined the pilgrimage to the shrine.  Groups from various churches in the area walked in from the the countryside carrying banners and crosses and met in the park below the Cathedral.  After refreshments we formed into one procession to the Abbey to circle the shrine before being seated for the service.  As we passed the shrine we tossed a flower onto it, by the time everyone had completed the circuit the shrine was covered and the scent of the flowers permeated the whole church.  Altogether an unforgettable experience.


A Prayer for St.Alban.

Almighty God, by whose grace and power thy holy martyr Alban triumphed over suffering and was faithful even unto death.  Grant to us, who now remember him with thanksgiving, to be faithful in our witness to thee in this world, that we may receive with him the crown of life; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God for ever and ever.
                                                                                                              Amen

Wednesday 18 June 2014

I Am Not There

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there.  I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamonds glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

Written by Mary Elizabeth Frye (1905-2004) - American housewife and florist.

Saturday 14 June 2014

Without Nature


                                                         Photograph by Allen Leblanc


As we lose nature, we lose far more than nature.  We lose also ourselves.  The natural world is not just something we like: it is something we need.  We suffer deep pain and loss the more we distance ourselves from it.
We don't just need to save the world because it is our duty.  We don't just need to save the world because it is useful to us, in that it provides things like food, water and oxygen.  We need to save the world because, without it, we are people whose existence lacks meaning.  We need to save wildlife, because, without wildlife, we are less than ourselves.
Without nature, we become as orphans: like people who have never known the casual everyday miracles of affection, care and love.  We are people who don't know where we have come from: and so have little idea of where to go.  Without nature, we are lost souls!

         Taken from 'A Word from Simon Barnes' - RSPB Birds Magazine - Autumn 2006

Wednesday 11 June 2014

Show Me the Way

Show me the way that leads to the true life.
I do not care what tempests may assail me,
I shall be given courage for the strife,
I know my strength will not desert or fail me;
I know that I shall conquer in the fray:
                                         Show me the way.

Show me the way up to a higher plane,
Where body shall be servant to the soul.
I do not care what tides of woe, or pain,
Across my life their angry waves may roll,
If I but reach the end I seek some day:
                                          Show me the way.

Show me the way, and let me bravely climb
Above vain grieving for unworthy treasures;
Above all sorrow that finds balm in time,
Above small triumphs, or belittling pleasures;
Up to those heights where these things seem child's play:
                                            Show me the way.

Show me the way to that calm, perfect peace
Which springs from an inward consciousness of right;
To where all conflicts with the flesh shall cease,
And self shall radiate with the spirit's light.
Though hard the journey and the strife, I pray
                                              Show me the way.

        by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919) - American Author and Poet 

Saturday 7 June 2014

Where to?



Why do I wander?  Why do I wait?  Why do I gaze?  Why do I not Be?  Why do I not lift my eyes, my heart, my soul to witness all that is?  Why am I human?
My soul eye drifts and lifts, searches in a human frame with all its distractions and limitations.  Am I not worthy, am I not whole?
Questions and confusions abound, where shall I go for clarity?
The Psalmist says, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help?  My help cometh from the Lord who made heaven and earth".
So I will lift my spirit eye to the heavens and seek help from Spirit despite my unworthiness.  Faith, hope and love, each is equal for if I have faith and move forward hopefully I will reach the source of eternal pure love in the light of Spirit, if I but strive the more.
I cannot judge my own worthiness nor can I make a judgement of this earthly life whilst I am still progressing through it.  All will in due course be revealed, so have faith, travel hopefully and with love.  These three I give to you that you may travel mindful of your journey and of your destination.

                                                                                                                          R.E.B

Wednesday 4 June 2014

Abundance



From rippling fields of golden grain
God says, "Take, eat, this is my bread."
I hear His voice in splashing rain,
"Come, drink, I am the Fountain-head."

From quiet dell and sheltered glen
He whispers, "Come, I am your rest,"
And from each songbird's sweet amen
My heart is lifted up and blessed.

From purple fruit by fragrant ways
He says, "Partake, I am the Vine."
This whole great universe sings in praise
While God says, "All I have is thine."

                          by Ida F. Killian