Letter to Monty on walking in the garden
Here I am with my middle class pretensions - sitting in the 'salon rouge' listening to Baroque music and sipping Earl Grey - when in truth I am a pleb in a house with a dodgy roof. I should be in work caring for the sick, but have been ill myself.
Dawn came up below the garden, the moist air lit the trees in a golden light.
I feel guilt for being here in my sanctuary.
I read of 'a light for revelation and a glory to Israel'
I suppose I have taken those words and taken them down into the depths of me. Others may be amazed, alarmed, quizzical or dismissive. The difference and the only difference between those reactions and mine is that I allowed them to take root in my heart, which is the beginning of a journey of discovery as well as an end. Everything else becomes unimportant. In the light, my doubts, sin, failure and the failure of 'religion' - everything- the world its deviousness and subterfuge - the deviousness and subterfuge of my heart all become insignificant - unimportant.
There are many that say original sin is a nonsense - I cannot intelligently argue the case. I just know within myself is the potential for both good and evil - for love and hatred - we see it displayed before us daily.
Messiah the glory of Israel and the light to all peoples is not uprooted from me because of failure or the troubles of either church or state, although on the surface of me you would probably never be able to tell. In a place that will not be found by scientists or doctors - not even on cutting me up after death - is a place that exists beyond time where the light is. Mary who gave birth to Messiah treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.
Christ goes beyond failures, beyond division, beyond every known thing that would trouble us on this earth, his spirit runs with the antelope and the ancient horses, he takes us back to the beginning of ourselves, he walks in the garden in the cool of the day.
No offence meant.