Sunday, 24 May 2015

An honour for Oscar

I confess that I’ve always been a bit dubious about honouring saints. And not just on the kind of theological grounds that made such an impact at the Reformation. I suppose I’ve been rather suspicious of cults of personality too.

I object to the way that women have been honoured for virginity while men have been honoured more for being great teachers and theologians. And then there are all those saints like Valentine, whose stories get turned to all sorts of strange commercial ends. I’ve often insisted that ‘saints’ in the New Testament are always in the plural, that we are all saints (and sinners too) and that there’s no place in the Church for special titles and honours.

But, despite all that, on 23 May, I will be marking the day that Oscar Romero is honoured. I shall be cheering because here was someone who was not a great heroic self, but was someone who really did come to represent his people, and whose memory and inspiration still live in El Salvador.

I went to El Salvador, last year, and as I sat on the plane I remembered how Romero had inspired me as I was growing up. I remembered how we all mourned his death in 1980, when he was shot while presiding at Mass in the chapel of the modest hospital where he lived. I remembered the story of how we had been appointed as Archbishop because the government thought he would be ‘a safe pair of hands’, but that he proved to be a thorn in their side because he never stopped speaking up for the poor. He was a figure of the past.

But as I arrived in El Salvador I saw ‘Romero vive’ painted on countless walls. I saw his portrait, with his distinctive spectacles, represented in windows and wall paintings, his sayings turned into graffiti and his strength of conviction and hope embodied in priests and people. I shouldn’t have been surprised to discover that here was a man whose legacy lives on.

I met Victor, he works for a community group in one of the poorest urban areas of San Salvador. He was wearing a T-shirt with Oscar Romero’s picture on it. He was a gentle soul, facing enormous challenges, and he needed a hero. He said: “You may have forgotten the story of Oscar Romero, but for me, and for many of us here, his story is ours. …He suffered with the poor and left a legacy to his people. His struggle is our struggle.”

Victor had just written a letter to the Municipal Authority to protest about the way in which creation is being destroyed and degraded. And in this letter he quoted from a sermon that Romero preached  way back in 1979.

He said, in words that seem strangely contemporary; “You know that the air and water are being polluted, as is everything we touch and live with, and we go on corrupting the nature that we need. We don’t realize we have a commitment to God to take care of nature. To cut down a tree, to waste water when there is so much lack of it, to let buses poison our atmosphere with those noxious fumes from their exhausts, to burn rubbish haphazardly – all that concerns our partnership with God.”
 
Romero was ahead of his time in recovering again the significance of texts like Genesis 2:15, that points to our God-given vocation to care for the earth, not only to ‘till it’ but also to ‘keep it’.

Successive governments in El Salvador, and those in church authority too, did their best to wipe out Romero’s memory. Children in school were not taught about him for years afterwards, but now, he is being recognised at last as a prophetic voice, a martyr, a servant of the poor.

In a world like ours, where so many look only at the short term and think only of themselves or their own, when many ignore what is happening to those in poverty and to the beautiful creation of God, we should look to the example of those who point to a different way of being a human being, a profoundly Christian way.

Listen to Romero’s own words: “I don’t want to be an anti, against anybody. I simply want to be the builder of a great affirmation: the affirmation of God, who loves us and who wants to save us.”   Oscar A. Romero, The Violence of Love

Romero was a passionate and committed visionary and trusted in the power and love of God to save the world. Let’s do the same.  

Susan Durber is theology co-ordinator for Christian Aid and a United Reformed Church minister. 

On 17 June a day of climate action will see an expected 10,000 Christians gather in London to worship and to meet with MPs, urging the Government to focus on creation care over the next Parliament.
 

Saturday, 23 May 2015

Fall from me


The devil, a fiend, not a friend 
Constant accuser 
Jealous of God's eyes on me. 
His name, heavens demeanour frown. 
Upon mine, angels constantly sing a glad redemptive theme. 
Be ever keen Evil one 
To thrall me and enthral me with your majestic visions 
Of Owning God through sin, 
Beckoning me with sweet psalms of rebellion. 
Woe to thee, your eternity is sealed 
And I will not seal my soul with thee. 
Offend me and bite thy thumb, 
I will not leap off the cliff 
Though you offer me the world. 
Thy unformed darkness forged into a forgery 
Fallen from heaven, fall from me!

K.Oni

Monday, 11 May 2015

Whisper in my ears that I still a saint be

Dear Lord I must confess my sins,
On me please look with all of heaven's grace
And pardon my head when on me gaze.
My face is sad and my heart burdened
Because of sins that are deep in my heart.
O please me forgive, I admit I am not a good man
Empty and shallow please create deep love in me.
I dare not judge others, and when I do I sigh
Knowing that I am worse than they could ever be.
O my sins have made me sad,
Locked in a dungeon where no light can reach
Save the light of your mercy.
Please come and all your love bring
And whisper in my ears that I still a saint be.

K.Oni

Beauty sleeps

Beauty sleeps
Under the evening light
Dreaming of pleasures
Beyond the eternal night

K.Oni

Tuesday, 28 April 2015

This numbing feel

What is it to be, to see the darkness in the coldness of the heat. The mind wonders through barren fields, mortar and ashes are the grass under my feet. The dead sky lingers above stifling my scene, agonizing appeal, I hear the fleeing birds shriek. Is it all an immortal dream, where mortals weak, and sovereign hands cannot relieve this dark unsettling thing, in my mind where all my feelings reach. 

Speak not, my mouth silent be. Muted ears to an outsider's speech; but faint noise, yet too loud causes an antagonistic feel. Help! But their eyes my pain cannot greet. This darkness, did it arise from an ancient creed, or programmed from the seed? 

Refrain from commenting on my existence, unless my lips upon yours be, then for a minute, or for the length of our misdeed, I feel a sensation until the climatic release. It feels like the sun through the clouds break, but after sleep, I awake with a numbing feel, of the darkness in the coldness of the heat; my mind wonders through deeper barren fields, mortar and ashes are the grass still under my feet. 


K.Oni

Blind to her vices

Her keen mind penetrates my august soul, 
Harmless beauty, superficially gentle, 
To my evening eyes, under weather, 
Cold but kind, the mask of the dawn 
Unleashes a soft storm, 
Pulsating like a consecrated stream. 
Hallowed, the strength of my humane loyalty 
To her method of profound cupidity. 
Stillness awe, hilarity gathering 
Beneath hidden thoughts. 
Respectful, courteous to her proud ways, 
A cheap fanatic, but fantastically extraordinary. 



K.Oni

Sunday, 26 April 2015

There's a lady I want to make my own

There's a lady I want to make my own 

Who makes my life shine, dazzling Gold. 


She is all lovely and never strange to me 


But it is a shame, my shame 



That she doesn't feel the same



K.Oni

O, Lord

 O, Lord,  The King of everlasting righteousness,  You are the one and only great God. Help me to live a holy life and overcome all of my si...