Picture of pots of seeds sprouting with text on the left: "Wealth managers outraged by 'deceitful' slur". Matthew on money: the parable of the sower. A satire based on Matthew 13:1–23. Faith in Grey Places

Wealth managers outraged by “deceitful” slur (a satire based on the parable of the sower)

As I was finishing the last series for Faith in Grey Places, I began to think the next one would look at Matthew’s gospel in some way. Then as the news-feed scrolled on I thought maybe this was a time to write about money. 

According to The Infographic Bible by Karen Sawrey, money is the fourth most-frequently preached on topic of Jesus’ teaching [p148-151]. The top three being the kingdom of God, the Father, and faith. 

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Large criss-crossing wooden beams lit up by sunlight. Text over the top: The God who builds. Faith in Grey Places

The God who builds (a poem)

Partly inspired by my Hebrew studies, I’m writing 12 poems inspired by 12 Hebrew verbs.

This week I’ve chosen to write on the Hebrew verb בּנה / banah (the ‘a’ vowels are both long). I became curious about this verb because it reminds me of the Hebrew word for son: בֵּן / bein. It was almost as if there was an association between building up one’s house and having sons. 

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Black and white photo of a church where the ceiling has fallen in. The photo shows the broken pieces of the ceiling and the top of the high altar where a cross with INRI over the top is placed.

This is my tent: a poem for passion week

For lent 2022, I’m writing six duologues between Samuel and other people in the Bible, all on the theme of living with conflict. The duologues are taking longer than I’d hoped to write, so this week I offer a poem instead.

It’s no secret that on Good Friday, Jesus suffered a long and agonising death. I have long struggled with Christian imagery and literature on the passion of Christ. On the one hand it shouldn’t be sanitised, but on the other it’s almost too much to bear thinking about. I’ve also struggled with depictions of Jesus’ suffering that seem to revel in the pain; it makes me wonder whether the artists in question have any comprehension of what torture is like. 

And then of course, I come back to the fact that I barely know myself. 

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