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About afeatheronthebreathofgod

a child of God, brimful of curiosity, learning to see the world through five year old eyes ... learning to be a feather on His breath I am Assistant to the Rural Dean in a rural Anglican Deanery.

Blood spattered priests

Robes of office. Clerical robes can arouse all sorts of emotions both within, and without the church. Instantly identifiable , the collar sets a priest apart, and may signal all sorts of things, depending on the perspective of the person catching sight of it. It was very strange to try one on for the first time today, and realise that it will become a regular part of my life in the fairly near future.  Trying on cassocks etc,  reminded me of  some thoughts I had last year  out of my regular cycle of readings , post BAP ( selection conference for ordination training) .

My readings at the moment have been all through Exodus and Leviticus and all about the tabernacle and anointing and consecration of priests etc.. God has said quite a bit surprisingly perhaps, through these rather detailed chapters..

One thing particularly struck me and will stay with me. Long detailed descriptions of beautiful linen and decorations for the priestly garments.. the best of the best – given and made by those offering their handcrafts to God …then

Exodus 29 21.. Moses was to take some of the blood spilled as a both a sin offering ( the bull) and the burnt offering ( the ram) which had been put all around the altar and some of the anointing oil and “sprinkle it on Aaron and his garments and on his sons and on their garments”

Beautiful fine linen – blood and oil spattered.

Very dramatic and very symbolic.

Huge visual statement – that the priests were stained with the blood of sin and sacrifice and also with the aromatic oils with which they had been anointed… their clothes will have been doubly fragrant ! The unpleasant metallic smell of blood, and the beautiful smell of anointing  oil also used in worship, signifying the presence of God.

One thing to be anointed and do the sacrifices – but to be ritually spattered too.. set apart, but stained and indelibly marked too. Beauty and blood side by side.

A friend of mine who is a priest, shared with me that as he breaks the bread ( or wafer) at communion..it is a reminder that the priest brings his/her own brokenness to God and offers all of that as they concelebrate with the people.. that too has stayed with me and somehow links into the thoughts these passages have stirred .

The cycle of readings has swung around again to the same passages, and here am I, trying on beautiful priestly garments, crafted by skilled hands.

Putting steel in your soul

In the soft, flickering candlelight of evensong at Kings College, the words jumped off the ancient pages. How many generations had heard the words of Psalm 105 sung exquisitely by highly trained voices, in this house of God? Verse 18 drew my eye and heart with particular force.

They have afflicted with fetters his feet, Iron hath entered his soul” Writing of Joseph,  the psalmist speaks of his unjust accusation and imprisonment at the hands of his master Potiphar’s wife. The psalm continues:

“Until the time came that his cause was known: the word of the Lord tried him. The king sent and delivered him” I had often heard the phrase used in my title in common parlance, but had never realised where it came from.  Joseph was imprisoned, his life interrupted, by an accusation that had no truth in it, yet the painful experience put “iron in his soul”. It strengthened and trained him for the weight of responsibility that lay ahead for him as overseer of Egypt.

He was to say to his brothers later, when they were fearfully repentant of selling him into slavery  “Don’t be afraid.  Don’t you see, you planned evil against me but God used those same plans for my good..” (Genesis 50:20 The Message) I know the  deep truth of those words from my own experience, where God has taken the dark shards of someone else’s brokenness, that had been aimed at me, into His own nail pierced palms, and fashioned them into something else entirely. Something good. Something that strengthened and trained me. For that, like Joseph and the psalmist, I am profoundly thankful.

A fellow ordinand made a  telling comment in a story- telling intensive course, I attended this week. Speaking of the firebird in the ancient, Russian folk tale, she described seeing in her mind’s eye, the imprisoned bird, dulling from it’s former glory and radiance, to resemble the rusty bars that restrained it.  A different translation of the verse from Psalm 105 as “They afflicted his feet with fetters; his soul came into irons” A subtle difference of interpretation, but an entirely different meaning. My learned friends can probably tell me what the Hebrew actually says – but I know which meaning I prefer.  When ‘imprisoned’ unjustly by whatever circumstances, we have the choice. To let the darkness rob us of our God given radiance, and cause us to resemble our prison bars, or allow the grace of God to turn mess into His glory and put iron or steel into our souls.