They stand beside us even as we grieve,
The lone and left behind whom no one claimed,
Unnumbered multitudes, he lifts above
The shadow of the gibbet and the grave,
To triumph where all saints are known and named;
from All Saints a poem by Malcolm Guite for Halloween
“Mother Maria Gysi, one of the founders of the Monastery of the Assumption, Whitby, dreamed that she was a “a big, square, rough old house; there was no glass in the windows, all very poor. But a lamp burning night and day for anyone who would come for a night or longer into one of the rooms — not to me. I would hardly know who was there. . . I was just the house, a place of welcome and warmth and infinite compassion — being one with each inwardly, demanding nothing, teaching nothing — above all no judging or categories or piousity of any kind, but the light every night showing the way.”
“I think we must ask ourselves: do we work like that? And are we the sort of people that people would want to get to know?” Fr Erik laughs.”
From the CHURCH TIMES article by Madeleine Davies
Marie, c’est le Christ que tu portes dans l’ombre de la chair
Il est encore dans les entrailles pour un peu de temps
Tu vas le donner à la lumière du monde, lui la lumière éternelle.
Marie, quel fruit lumineux portons-nous dans l’ombre de la chair ?
Aide-nous à le porter encore une peu de temps sans le voir
Donne-nous aussi la joie d’une naissance
La naissance d’un fruit éternel, enfant de la chair et de l’Esprit
Porté, mûri, attendu, donné
Mary, it is Christ that you carry in the shadow of the flesh
He is still in the womb for a while
You’re going to give to the light of the world his eternal light.
Mary, what luminous fruit do we bear in the shadow of the flesh?
Help us carry it a while longer without seeing it
Give us also the joy of a birth
The birth of an eternal fruit, child of the flesh and the Spirit
Carried, ripened, expected, given