Vigeon Post

  
THREE SONGS FOR EASTER
2006

WHERE IS GOD ?
Did an angelic army
send the tsunami ?
Did God's engineer
Break the rocks of Kashmir ?
And could it be true
That the avian flu
Is a long overdue
Judgement on you
and the rest of our crew ?
No wonder more worldly folk
 think it quite odd
That the best sort of Christians
are happy with God.

But "God was not in the earthquake"
And "God was not in the fire;"
But God was in that still small voice
 That left the world with little choice
Than to do what Love would require.
So God was in those generous cheques
And Relief Workers there on the ground
God was in those sniffer dogs
And the teams with the specialist sound.
But most of all I think I see God
In the fathers on  ice covered trails -
No shoes on their feet but a kid on their back,
And inching their way through the gales.

THE RELUCTANT SPORTING CHRISTIAN 

A famous Cricket victory
on the fields of far Mumbai
Fills my heart with great elation
as I watch re-plays come by.
I devour the morning papers
as they tell of wondrous deeds
amd a voice within me cries "We won !"
and it fills my heart felt needs.

Then my football team starts winning
 and it's heading for promotion
And every winning goal they score
sparks an exquisite emotion.
It's the knowledge your side's winning
That will fill your heart with joy;
And as you read the match reports
you savour each winning ploy.

So why do I get more excited
And emotionally so involved ?
Far more than I do on Easter Day
When God's saving mystery is solved ?

And why do my mates
spend twenty five pounds
To sit in the rain and the gale
To watch their team kick
a football around
In pursuit of a non holy grail ?
While I being conscious
of a need to be thrifty
Still think I'm being generous
to give God six-fifty

For somehow on a Sunday
when we celebrate our Christ
And how he overcame our death
 through the life He sacrificed.
We listen to the match reports
of how He won the game
And shout  "Glory Halleluya !"
- but it's never quite the same !
For however much we listen
and sing with  heart and soul;
There's nothing so exciting
as to cheer a winning goal   


A SONG OF THE ANASTASIS
a prayer before the ikon

Resplendent and so glorious
above the gates of death
Our Jesus is victorious
 and our Christ will not give way;
But  with hands that bear the marks of nails
and breathing Gods own breath
We see him dragging Adam 
to the light of His new  day.

So to  Adam and Eve
who are just you and me
Jesus holds out his hands
and says 'hang on to me'
'Just hang on to me
and  I'll set you free
For I hear when  you pray
 your "Libera me !'


When Verdi composed
his great Mass of the Dead
His trumpets and drums
exposed us to terror
As he fed us on sorrow
and fire and dread,
And we faced dropping
into God's bottomless cellar.
But he knows in the end
that all we need to say
Is his softly repeated cry "Libera me !"

When the kindly oncologist
tells you what's there;
When you go down to theatre
and face it alone;
When you've lost one you love
and you can't raise a prayer;
When you face the Abyss
and drop down like a stone;
Then the hands with the nails
will catch you and say
"Fear not ! for I have heard
your soft "Libera me !"

For the hostage caught up
in a terrorist war,;
The children locked up
in their immigrant cage;
The priest who's "not sure
he believes any more ";
The widower facing
a lonely old age;
For all those who fear
they are going to Hell,
(be it one of their making
or as victims of fate,)
The Christ who is risen
cries "All shall be well !
For I've been there before you
and I've opened the gate.
And I'll pull you all out
and there's no fee to pay
For I hear my lost sheep
crying "Libera me"
So hang on to me
and  I'll set you free
And rebuild your humanity
on my Cross-tree
And  all that I ask
when you kneel down to pray
Is  cry 
"Libera -
Libera -
Libera me!"