An Audio of The reflection on Psalm 23 the words of which you will find at https://wp.me/p51XOn-ay
Byzantium Jesus the Good Shepherd on Left, Orthodox Icon of Jesus the Good Shepherd on Right.
Graffiti Walk in Woodstock during Covid 19
On one of my morning walks during lock down in the Western Cape I came across a feast of graffiti in Woodstock and Salt River. I have always been fascinated by graffiti on walls and for the most part saw it as unlawfulness and an irritation. I found that the earliest bubble and triangular graffiti wasn’t very exciting or attractive, and seemed to degrade an area. These day I find myself taking quite a different view. The graffiti artists have come a long way and are producing some wonderful art which is transforming the dreariness of buildings and even homes. …
Reflection for Fathers’ day
Psalm 86: 15But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God,slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness. I have come not to bring peace on earth but a sword. Matt 10:34 Today in our worship we focus on Fathers, we give thanks for them and we hold them before God in our prayers.This has not been a good week on one level for us in the Western Cape and in our country as a whole – the numbers contracting the Corona virus continue to grow and we have been hearing news since the lifting of the ban on alcohol …
I Play to Win I Play to Play
Play to Win, Play to Play I gave a talk to the College of which I was the Chaplain a few years ago, on the role of sport in my life. I have always been a ball player, and loved balls of all shapes and sizes from very early in my life. I seemed to have wasted so much time in my life throwing a ball against a wall, catching or bowling or batting or kicking a ball. I learned to play hockey in the streets of Woodstock when I was very young. My elder brother and my sisters played …
Pentecost Moments
Love and the Island of CavesLove and masks in an urban areain the time of covid-19 lockdown We have come to this placewhere we are real to each other onlyFacing each other in Plato’s caveEveryone else a masked shadowpassing. In the lilies above our bedthe flowers fade and there are only the spaces,macabre faces in a slow dance of fear. Most real to us are the shaftsof sunlight in the bougainvilleamixing crimson with potato-bush bluethe chirruping choir of sparrowsand the chew-chit of the collared sunbird,as lost as we in their new freedom. Voices of neighbours unrhythm our morningLaughter across the yards invade usdislocated …
