I posted this Anne Porter poem here in 2011 with different images but I'm posting it again as we enter Holy Week and it has extra special meaning as today Pope Francis met and addressed ecumenical interfaith groups here.
An Altogether Different Language
There was a church in Umbria, Little Portion,
Already old eight hundred years ago.
It was abandoned and in disrepair
But it was called St. Mary of the Angels
For it was known to be the haunt of angels,
Often at night the country people
Could hear them singing there.
What was it like, to listen to the angels,
To hear those mountain-fresh, those simple voices
Poured out on the bare stones of Little Portion
In hymns of joy?
No one has told us.
Perhaps it needs another language
That we have still to learn,
An altogether different language.
I've heard the stirrings of a different language coming from our Pope Francis in this last week. One of compassion, service, humility and trying to find a way of living at peace with others of different faiths or no faith .
The language of the Gospels that we hear next week is one of Christ's self emptying love for all; surrender, powerlessness, and suffering in the face of mob power, unjust accusations and barbarous cruelty.
"This is my commandment : that you love one another as I have loved you"
John 15.
I've heard the stirrings of a different language coming from our Pope Francis in this last week. One of compassion, service, humility and trying to find a way of living at peace with others of different faiths or no faith .
The language of the Gospels that we hear next week is one of Christ's self emptying love for all; surrender, powerlessness, and suffering in the face of mob power, unjust accusations and barbarous cruelty.
"This is my commandment : that you love one another as I have loved you"
John 15.
No comments:
Post a Comment