There are online videos of cats, dogs, mice and animals which are sweet, and dear to watch. There is joy in watching an animal doing a "happy, happy" walk, or a bird placing wings around a loved human with deep affection.
Yet sometimes a click of the computer mouse shows a scene with an animal wailing, or with traumatised face, or mouse or moth being chased in fear of life. These are sad things.
God places us on earth to protect, not torture little ones as clickbait.
Situations are funny until they cause heartache, distress or fear to another.
Then they just are cruel.
The quiet plea of the small
A small screen glows in the quiet night, A thousand lives flicker in borrowed light; Soft paws dancing, bright eyes at play, A kitten tumbling in threads of day.
A dog runs free through fields of green, Joy unmeasured, pure, serene; A mouse peeks out with trembling nose, In simple trust that gently grows.
And oh, how good, how right it feels When laughter lifts and kindness heals; For in such moments, light is shown Of love the Maker calls His own.
For God who shaped both fur and feather, Wove fragile lives in care together; And placed us here, with mind and hand, As gentle stewards of the land.
But then the tone begins to change; A darker note, a crueler range. A trembling cry, a frantic flight, A tiny creature gripped by fright.
A chase made sport, a fear made show, A helpless heart with nowhere to go; The clicks increase, the laughter grows; But something deeper in us knows.
For what is mirth that feeds on pain? What jest is worth another’s strain? When terror is the price we pay, The light of joy has slipped away.
The wailing cry, the panicked eyes, Are not a joke, nor small disguise; They speak a truth both sharp and clear: That cruelty dressed as fun is fear.
Would we make sport of trembling souls? Turn sacred life to passing roles? Or hear within each fragile plea A call to guard, not injury?
For even least and voiceless things Are held beneath the King of kings; And every life, however small, Is known, is seen, is loved in all.
So let our laughter still be bright, But born of kindness, born of light. Let joy be clean, and hearts be wise, With mercy shining through our eyes.
For we were never made to harm, But to protect with open arm; And every creature, great or small, Is not our plaything - but our call.
Image courtesy of ChatGPT with CN Whittle, "Cozy night with a cat companion"
God sent Jesus to earth to be born in a stable, among oxen, donkeys and sheep. Extra-biblical traditions name camels, horses and other livestock as also in the stable at the time of Christ's Birth.
God looked down and chose that His Son be born in a palace of innocence and love, among those who do not murder or hurt or hate.
The Gospel of God's Son would first be preached to the innocent of the world who would look upon Christ and love Him, not seek to kill Him.
So Jesus came to be born of a Virgin Mother and protected by a devoted Foster-Father, among the loving presence of sweet animals.
Where no hand was raised against Him
In the hush before the dawn of grace, When heaven bent to kiss the earth, God beheld the world of restless hearts And chose, with tender, sovereign worth -
Not marble halls nor thrones of might, Nor courts where pride and power reign, But lowly beams and borrowed light, A stable worn by wind and rain.
There, where the oxen gently fed, And donkeys breathed the quiet air, Where sheep in drowsy clusters spread Their wool like clouds of patient prayer;
And, as old whispers softly tell, Where camels knelt and horses stood, A humble, breathing, living well Of creaturely and blameless good . . .
“I give My Son,” the heavens said, “To dwell where innocence is known, A palace not by kings be made, But hearts that harm not flesh and bone.
Let Him be first by these adored, Who do not wound, nor scheme, nor hate; Let beasts receive their quiet Lord Before the proud and learned great.
For they will gaze and not conspire, They will draw near and not condemn; No hidden blade, no vengeful fire, Only a gentle warmth in them.”
So came the Child, so small, so mild, Jesus Christ in straw and shadow laid to rest, The Holy One, the undefiled, At peace on nature’s humble breast.
And Mary watched with wondering, silent eyes, Her heart a cradle deep and wide, While Saint Joseph kept his faithful guise, A guardian standing close beside.
No sword was raised, no hatred stirred, No voice of scorn, no cruel decree; Only the quiet, living Word Among the meek of land and lea.
O mystery soft as breathing hay, O wisdom clothed in earthen guise - That Love should choose such hidden way, And open first the simplest eyes.
Image courtesy of ChatGPT and CN Whittle, "Nativity scene in a quiet stable"
O Mother robed in quiet light, Whose heart once cradled Heaven’s King, You walk again through shadowed fields Where broken bells no longer ring.
You see the smoke that veils the sky, You hear the cries no words can hold; The child who calls for vanished arms, The young grown weary, fierce and old.
Your tears fall soft on bloodied earth, Like dew upon a wounded land; Each drop a prayer, each sigh a plea We scarcely pause to understand.
For where a soldier falls in dust, Or limps through life forever scarred, You stand beside him in his night, A mother keeping solemn guard.
Where hunger gnaws at empty homes, And silence answers orphaned cries, You gather sorrow to your heart And lift it gently to the skies.
O Lady, still you call to us - Not with the thunder war has known, But in the hush between the guns, A voice of mercy, soft and lone:
“Let peace be sown where hatred grew, Let love make whole what fear has torn; For every child of God is mine - No life was made for grief or scorn.”
Yet still we turn, yet still we wound, Yet still the earth drinks bitter rain… How long, O Mother, must you weep Before we learn from human pain?
Teach us to lay our weapons down, To see your Son in every face; To choose the path of sacrifice, And build a world of healing grace.
O Lady of the silent tears, Pray we may hear, and not delay - That we, your children, rise at last And answer peace… today.
Image courtesy of Chatgpt with CN Whittle. "Virgin Mary protects amid war's ruin"
When Jesus rose from the dead, the great burial stone had shaken in earthquake before warrior angels of light. As human soldiers fell as ones dead before the Power of the Holy One, the early morning birds hushed their song in awe at the happenings.
Jesus mulled over recent events; His grievous jailing, torture and dreadful death. His vandalization of the gates of Hades and the confrontation with satan the great usurper. The journey in which the Redeemer led the peoples through newly opened celestial gates into Heaven.
Although the Son of God was busy with so many things, He found time to turn back. In remembrance of the teachings received during His Youth from His beloved Mother and trusted Foster-Father, Jesus did even the smallest thing well.
He neatly folded the linen cloth which bore witness to His sufferings. Such a small thing. Such a great thing. "He has done all things well."
Let us follow Christ's example, in the tiny details of life. If we do, our character will be so moulded as we follow in the Footsteps of the Son, that the great things will take care of themselves.
He Has Done All Things Well
Before the dawn could find its voice,
the earth itself began to speak:
a trembling hymn beneath the stone
that sealed the Silence of the world.
The ground convulsed -
not in chaos, but in recognition.
For Heaven’s warriors, bright as fire,
descended clothed in living light.
The stone, so heavy with despair,
was cast aside like breath on glass.
No hand of man could stand that hour. The guards fell down as though undone,
as though the weight of Glory
had unmade their strength.
Even the birds,
those heralds of the morning,
paused upon the edge of song;
their fragile notes held back in awe,
as if creation itself were listening.
Then Christ arose.
Not as one returning,
but as One who had conquered return;
the Living One from death’s deep night,
the Victor over every grave.
He stood in quiet radiance,
the Wounds still speaking love,
the Body once so broken
now bearing endless life.
In that sacred stillness, Jesus remembered -
The long night’s sorrow -
the kiss, the chains, the mocking cries:
the scourge, the thorns, the lifted Cross -
each pain a thread in Love’s great weaving.
He remembered deeper still;
the gates of Hades torn apart,
the clash with the ancient thief,
the keys reclaimed from trembling hands,
the countless souls led out of shadow
into the widening light of Heaven.
So much;
so vast;
so world-renewing.
And yet…
Jesus turned aside.
Not to thunder.
Not to summon hosts again.
But to something small.
The linen cloth,
still bearing witness to His suffering,
lay where it had been cast in haste.
The Master, Risen Lord of all creation,
stooped.
With Hands that broke the gates of death, Jesus folded the cloth:
carefully,
intentionally,
as once He had learned
in the quiet home of Nazareth.
The teachings of His Mother; gentle, steadfast.
The guidance of His Foster-Father; faithful, true.
The hidden years,
the ordinary holiness of daily things.
Nothing forgotten.
Nothing beneath Him.
Such a small act;
a folded cloth in an empty tomb.
Such a great act -
a life that leaves no love undone.
For He who conquered death itself
did not neglect the smallest good.
“He has done all things well.”
And so He teaches us -
not only in wonders that shake the earth,
but in the quiet shaping of the soul:
That greatness is not only
in the gates we break,
nor in the battles we endure,
nor in the victories Heaven proclaims -
but in the unseen faithfulness
of every moment given to God.
Fold what is yours to fold.
Tend what is yours to tend.
Love in the smallest places.
For when the heart is formed
in the Footsteps of the Son,
even the smallest things
become eternal.
Thereafter the great things,
in their time -
will follow.
Today we gather in spirit and in truth to celebrate the
great joy of the Resurrection. The stone has been rolled away. The silence of
the tomb has been broken. Where there was darkness, now there is light. Where
there was sorrow, now there is hope. Christ is risen; alive, present, and among
us.
Scripture Reading
A reading from the Holy Gospel (John 20:1-9):
"On the first day of the week, while it was still dark,
Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from
the entrance. So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the
one Jesus loved, and said, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and
we don't know where they have put Him!"
So Peter and the other disciple started for the tomb. Both
were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first.
He bent over and looked at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in.
Then Simon Peter came along behind him and went straight into the tomb. He saw
the strips of linen lying there, as well as the cloth that had been wrapped
around Jesus' Head. The cloth was still lying in its place, separate from the
linen. Finally, the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went
inside. He saw, and believed."
Words of comfort:
"The Resurrection is not only an event of the past; it
is a living reality. The empty tomb speaks to every place in our lives where we
feel loss, fear, or uncertainty. It reminds us that God is always at work, even
when we cannot yet see the outcome.
Like Mary Magdalene, we sometimes stand weeping outside what
we think is the end. Yet just beyond our tears, Christ is calling us by name.
The Resurrection tells us that love is stronger than death, and that no
darkness can overcome the Light of Christ.
Let us rely on Christ in the world's times of difficulty.
Let us believe that He will triumph over war, sin and death: all in good time.
As it seemed that all was lost when Christ sighed His last
breath on the cross, so it will be in our lives. Jesus bowed up His Head and
gave up His Spirit. Then Jesus, Son of God, went down into Hades. The Saviour
vandalized the great gates of the Underworld of the dead, and confronted satan.
Jesus wrested the keys of sin and death from the great usurper. Christ then led
God's beloved children from the depths of Sheol, through newly opened celestial
gates into Heaven.
Just so shall it be with us. Christ will triumph, He will
overcome all wars, death, injustice, hatred, greed, pursuit of wealth in
untoward ways, and instate His Royal Rule for ever. We just need to bide our
time, and realize that the Kingdom of Heaven among us is a seed rooted and
growing, not yet the full tree.
Have patience, dear one! Trust when all seems fallen, dear
Reader! As satan stood in disarray in Hades, all his plans brought to nought,
the great plan of God marched inexorably onwards. Satan had thought that the
death of the humanity of Christ on the cross would bring Jesus into the realm
of the underworld. The fallen angel vastly underestimated the Plan of God.
Just so do the powers and elements of darkness today in our
world, underestimate the great power of Christ. Keep on praying, dear Reader.
Keep on believing. Keep on hoping. Keep on trusting.
We may suffer, we may be persecuted, we may die, loved ones
may fall before us. But, in the end, Jesus Christ the Son of God will
gloriously triumph, as He triumphed over sin and death.
One day we will stand at the Resurrection of all peoples,
and marvel: never have I seen such a sight. Yes, this will happen. God's Plan
cannot be overturned or turned back.
Let us thank God for the glorious Resurrection of Jesus
Christ, remain steadfast and faithful during our trials here on earth, and look
forward to the coming of the Kingdom which will without fail, take place one
day as promised.
Until then, let us not break faith."
Prayer of the Faithful
"Let us bring our prayers before the risen Lord:
For
the Church, that she may boldly proclaim the joy of the Resurrection
For
those burdened by sorrow, that they may find hope in the promise of new
life
For
our communities, that peace and compassion may flourish
For
our own hearts, that we may recognize the risen Christ walking with us
each day.
Risen Lord, hear our prayer."
Breaking of bread:
Priest; "Almighty God, You sent Your only
Son to our world because You loved us so much. We praise You, Father, that on
the night before He gave His Life, our Lord Jesus took bread, blessed and broke
it, and gave it to His disciples, saying; "Take, eat, this is My Body
which is broken for you. Do this in memory of me."
Congregation; "Lord Jesus, You are the
Bread of Life."
Priest; "After the same manner, He took the
cup, gave thanks and gave it to them, saying; "Take this, all of you, and
drink, for this is My Blood; the Blood of the New Covenant which is poured out
for you and for all for the forgiveness of sins. Do this in memory of Me.
Congregation: "Lord Jesus, You are the Cup
of Life, the wine that is blessed for our salvation."
(Here spiritually partake of the Body and Blood of Christ
within the Eucharist. Be assured He has come to you.)
Spend some time in silent prayer.
The Lord's Prayer:
Priest and congregation; "Our Father, Who
art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name, Thy kingdom come, Thy Will be done, on
earth as It is in heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread. And forgive us our
trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into
temptation, but deliver us from evil.
For Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever
and ever, Amen."
Closing Prayer Priest; "Lord Jesus,
You have conquered death and opened for us the way to eternal life.
Help us to live as people of the Resurrection;
bearing light where there is darkness,
bringing hope where there is despair,
showing love to all.
Remain with us, Lord,
and make our hearts burn with the joy of Your Presence.
Amen."
Blessing
Priest: "May the joy of the risen Christ
fill your heart,
may His Peace rest upon you,
and may His Light guide your way;
today and always.
Alleluia! Christ is risen.
He is risen indeed. Alleluia!"
After His Resurrection, Jesus descended to the Realm of the Dead, the Underworld. Christ vandalized the gates of Hades. The Saviour confronted satan, and wrested the keys of sin and death from the great usurper.
Thereafter Jesus led all peoples who had been held in the Underworld of the dead, upwards, through newly opened celestial gates into Heaven.
The Son of God Who had so recently been grievously crucified ran up the celestial steps into the Father's Arms.
The Father had sacrificed His only Son for love of us all in the world; this is the depth of His Love for us.
The Harrowing of the Deep
The earth fell silent -
a wounded hush beneath a darkened sky,
where Love lay broken in a borrowed tomb,
and hope seemed sealed with stone.
But deeper still,
beneath the roots of mountains,
beneath the memory of light;
a tremor stirred in shadowed halls.
Hades, ancient keeper of the dead,
felt its iron gates begin to groan.
Not with the slow decay of ages,
but with the sudden force of Glory.
A light - no, The Light -
tore through the suffocating dark,
not asking entrance,
but claiming it.
The gates were shattered -
not opened, but undone;
their rusted bars bent like reeds
before the Breath of God.
There He stood -
the Crucified, yet unconquered; Wounds still bright with Mercy, Eyes burning with eternal dawn.
Satan, the great usurper,
cloaked in borrowed dominion,
rose trembling from his fragile throne.
“What right have You?” he hissed,
voice cracking like a dying flame.
Christ replied, not with thunder,
but with truth that cannot be unmade:
“I am the Beginning and the End.
What you have stolen, I restore.”
Then came the clash: not of swords,
but of authority and surrender.
The ancient lie recoiled before the Living Word.
Death itself forgot its power.
From trembling hands,
the keys fell -
keys of sin,
keys of death;
wrested free by pierced Hands
that once were nailed in weakness,
now raised in victory.
The darkness broke.
Chains fell like rain.
Graves gave up their silence.
Voices. long buried. rose in wonder.
Adam stirred.
Eve wept.
Prophets lifted their eyes.
Kings bowed low.
“Awake, O sleepers,” He called,
“for your night is over.”
Wonderingly they followed,
a great procession of the redeemed;
led by the Shepherd who had sought them
even into death.
Upward they rose,
through realms once sealed,
through doors never opened,
until Heaven itself stood wide.
The gates of glory, long awaited,
flung open in radiant welcome.
Angels leaned in awe,
as humankind returned home.
And He -
the Son, the Lamb, the Victor:
having emptied death of its dominion,
turned toward the Throne.
Still bearing the marks of love,
still crowned with sacrifice,
He ascended the celestial steps:
not slowly,
but with the urgency of reunion.
Once there,
beyond all telling,
the Father received Him.
Not as one restored,
but as One who had fulfilled all things.
Arms eternal wrapped around the wounded Son,
and in that embrace
was written the measure of Love:
That the Father would give,
and the Son would descend,
and the Spirit would raise -
all for us.
For every soul once lost,
for every heart still wandering;
this is the depth of Love:
That even the grave is not beyond His reach,
and even death
cannot hold
the ones He has claimed.
