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Monday, 24 December 2012
Agricultural Advent Poem
One of the BPCA's trustees, Nathanael Lewis, has written a poem for advent, and we post it here as many who have heard it at advent services have expressed appreciation for it's power and profundity. He says 'This is especially apt for the Christians of Pakistan and other places who are suffering and persecuted this Christmas. It reminds us of the true nature of Christmas, and the way God works amidst the pain and confusing suffering of life, and I hope it can bring some encouragement to those who need it, to lighten despair and rekindle hope'.
Agricultural Advent (6-12-12)
In the dark earth, soil the fruit of blight
The divine farmer plants a rare seed tonight.
In the wreckage of dead dreams
And corrupted hope that seems
To mock all the promise of good
That the prophets of old said would
Redeem the world and end all strife
And bring God’s new order of life
The seed he planted was sown in the womb
Of Mary, the only Son, to break the tomb
Of twisted religion’s dreary dark tower
And leaven earth through with heaven’s power
Flower of hope watered with blood of babies slain
Prophecy of pain by a king whose mark was Cain.
He who is the hope of Israel amidst the gloom
Of fearful violence, was born to us to assume
The scapegoat burden of our corrupted pain
So this our dark earth could receive heaven’s rain
And by his sacrificial choice to love, from heaven’s bower
Sweet hope’s fragrance drifts down - scent of a resurrection flower
In this dark world, riven with decay
The divine farmer plants seeds again today
In the wombs of human hearts
He impregnates hope and starts
To nurture good from corruption
Preparing for the eruption
Of redemption’s dawn he has planned
To birth from the broken and damned
The seed he plants by surrender of hearts
To the strange logic of his arts
Where believing comes before seeing, and deeds
Are born out of nurturing fragile seeds
Of faith in the King born to die before he reigns
Whose blood is life that leeches through and so stains
Our souls that we become divine farmers who plant
Seeds of good deeds in this age, so where there aren’t
Fruits of peace and grace, our acts will produce
The harvest of hope’s reward that will induce
The Universe’s labour, the world’s womb turning inside out
To herald the new world’s King of Israel with a shout.
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Elegant poem breathing the ancient touch of beauty!
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