20 Biblical Thoughts drawing on titles of songs by the Fab Four.
All You Need is Love
It may cost us dearly. All that patience and kindness, all that hope and endurance. And the temptation lingers constantly, to lash out, to choose a road more regularly travelled. To believe that we need something else, some thing less, something poorer.
When the sky seems devoid of anything but clouds, when the whisper on the wind is merely the breeze, no Voice seems to call on us. When we look to the heavens our eyes full of lonely wondering. How long, Oh Lord, how long? The ancients have known this as we do sometimes today. The Silence. When tears are no stranger, and every fibre of our being longs for you. Psalms 39 & 40
On any given day we may be the strong one or the struggling. Needing help or able to give it. Not easy to remove the masks some time. To let the props fall and the desperately constructed staging tumble. Being honest is demanding and sometimes terrifying. But there is One who understands, a Love, a Light, a Compassionate One at work in the world, and we bring him to each other in the fractured vessels of our lives.
Got to Get You Into My Life
In the rush, in the moments of peace and panic, in the decision making and the questioning, in the priorities and the pastimes. When it’s all going well, and when the wheels come off. In the darkness of the difficulties and the warmth of the good times. In the laughter, smiles, struggles and sorrows. Help me to let you in, help me to keep opening the door.
Each day a new start, a fresh dawn, a bright invitation to follow, the slate clean, whether yesterday was good or bad, harsh or warm. The kind King of now offering a smile and forgiveness. Paul, Mary, Peter and Joanna, captives to the past, all set free, blinded by the light of that resurrection dawn. Moving on from all those yesterdays, one today at a time.
Do You Want To Know a Secret?
About a world embedded within this one. A kingdom, a way of life, another way, a road less travelled. A gate to life, a spring of refreshing water that never runs dry. A source of hope, of purpose, of strength, of comfort; of truth and kindness and life. It’s here. Listen closely, quietly, to a sound below and above the prevalent noise of the regular. A whisper, like the gentlest of breezes. Offered.
A prayer still calling to be answered, an invitation as the shadows fell over the hardest of last suppers. As he stood on the threshold of sacrificing every last little part of himself. Holding nothing back for any and all of us. ‘May they be united. May the walls come down. May they be one. May they come together, with all their differences and care for each other. As you care for me.’
We Can Work It Out
The clues are there for us to find, tucked into a fistful of stories, tales of the unexpected. Parables of how we might build our lives, and looking for what is lost, and noticing our own misdemeanours before pointing out another’s. About caring and lifting our eyes higher. A trail to follow leading to life. Up to us to work it out.
Progress does not always mean moving forward into a better place. There are times when I need to check myself, go back to a previous crossroads. Stand. Remind myself of the ancient paths, look for the tried and tested road. The path trodden by millions before me. The way of peace, strength, life and truth. That Damascus-Emmaus-Calvary Road.
Here Comes the Sun
In the smallest of ways sometimes, the light dawns again, the stone rolls once more and a glimmer of resurrection bleeds into the darkness. Often feels fleeting, a rogue ray, a sliver of something more. In a smile, a word, a friend, a stranger. In a world dogged by distress, a Vital Sign.
All the Lonely People
They came limping, some crawling, others running. Some not daring to lift their eyes because of the weight of their shame, others mouthing off to hide their true nature, their frailty and weakness. And he encouraged them to move closer, shook the sweaty, grubby hands, embraced those who had not been hugged in a long while. He brought laughter to faces which had not creased in a smile for too long. And he held out an open hand of compassion, he cares.
He never pressurised or manipulated anyone. Never coerced or cornered them. He waited, and he listened, and always gave the interested his full attention. Whenever they noticed, as they began to see… that he had something, something they had never encountered before. Something worth the time, worth the look, worth weighing up, worth everything else.
The promise we hold on to, the now and the not yet. One day all that is fractured, all that is frail and flawed, all that hurts, all that holds us back… one day all that will be changed. A day that will never end, when time will not even be a memory, no fears for the future no regrets or worries about the past. The present. The Alpha and Omega. Our hope, our anchor, the new dawn promise.
The Long and Winding Road
Life. Some days the road is easier than others. There are times when the hills suddenly appear, looming out of nowhere. Times when it’s all about the climbing. Times when we breeze on, the wind in our face, the sun on our back. Times when the road is all about the rain and the trudgery. Whatever the story, the road, and the travelling, we don’t walk alone.
So many telling the stories, taking the time to pass on words primed with life. Sitting around campfires, in market squares, over a good meal. And little by little, a book was born. Written in the language of the street, words for everyone, phrases to fuel change and hope and a revolution of love. Promises for the dark days, revelations to help us get up each day. A signpost in a barren landscape. Tales of One to whom we can give every word of our own life stories.
A Hard Day’s Night
Wakes early. Steps into the pre-dawn haze. Each footstep a prayer, a moment with his father. So much spoken in the silence of his walking, stopping, sitting. The chaos of the previous night, the giving out, the demands, the conflict, the wonder and encouragement of seeing lives changed for the better. Work done, care offered, long into the late hours. He offers it all now. His every waking moment. The night gone and the day ahead. For strength, joy, sustenance.
What might he have said to that 12th disciple if he’d stayed around. When all seemed squandered and the walls we’re closing in? What would his words be? Afterwards. When the carpenter had crossed over, sailing the sea of death, over to that land of resurrection, into that new harbour of dawning hope. Wouldn’t he have made breakfast on the beach for him, fish and a fresh start, as he did for others? As he does for you and I?
If I Needed Someone
Not just for the lonely hours, for the darkness of the storms, for the never-ending tunnels, but for every minute, every challenge and chore, every sweet burst of laughter. Every puzzle, every conundrum, every disagreement and moment of conflict. Every smile of friendship, every embrace and fist bump. You’re the one I need. Amen.