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Belonging

28/1/2018

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​ by Aaron Mirkin
Christ became entirely human. 

And there is no suffering he does not know.
And no place of darkness he has not been. 

And every morning we say:
Yes! – no matter what comes.
Yes! – the path of my inner development is laid down before me by my weaknesses.
Yes! - To each one is entrusted his share of the Fall – to bear and raise up- slowly and carefully. 

- And as we raise ourselvs, so too do we raise the world around us. 

And His Passion becomes our Passion,
And His Easter becomes our Easter,
​

And there is nothing that does not belong.
This poem formed the starting point for a discussion among the members of the Board of Trustees in January 2018 about the meaning of belonging to a congregation of The Christian Community. 
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GIFTS

3/10/2017

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by Jane Abrahams, with love.  12/9/17
 
For Malcolm and Christine
     as they leave Johannesburg.
Go joyfully, dear people
back to the source whence flowed
all our gifts of language, music, art.
 
But take with you
in a small corner of your luggage
a bit of our roughness:

the way the red earth
shouts at the sky, the way the crowd
toyi-toyis like waves of the sea.
Take with you the memory
of swarming taxis and ugly downtown buildings,
of makeshift shabby homes
and the quiet green garden spaces
where you laid to rest
some of our friends.
 
When you are cradled
in the culture of centuries
remember us
who perch on such a thin veneer of history
who drank so eagerly of what you had to give.
 
Just two of you – but your modest hands
poured out an abundance:
a river of gifts for our thirsty soil                  
and always
the greatest gift of all –
the caring, listening ear.
Picture
Rev. Malcolm and Christine Allsop. Malcolm was a priest in the Johannesburg congregation for four years (Dec. 2013 - Sept. 2017) before he was sent to a congregation in Vienna, Austria. Christine is a curative eurythmist and musician. She was very active in the congregation and enlivened the music in the church.
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A poem for Peter

3/10/2017

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by David Wertheim Aymes (written after the talk Peter van Breda gave on the Friday (22nd September 2017) before the Ordination of Michaël Merle)
Saturday, 23 September 2017
12:57
 
At first I saw him as of old;
And wondered what was to shine.
A gentle factual sequence flowed
From perspective's hard earned climb.
 
And as we walked this careful path
So soundly birthed and nurtured more
Within his trusted soul,
So rose the colours in his cheeks,
The blossom of his store.
 
The years of care and tailored food
His soul has rightly formed.
Now living there as trusted friend
We see the streams that mend.
 
The thread was long but the stitches sound
And so the garment formed.
It revealed itself in ample time
In each and every soul.
 
The sower knows the seeds he sows;
In hope of fertile ground.​
Picture
Rev. Peter van Breda - Priest in London. Peter was a priest in the Johannesburg congregation for 21 years (1980 - 2001)
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Slow Dance

21/5/2017

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Posted 30 October 2016

By a little girl dying of cancer. Contributed by Anne-Marie van Dijk.
Have you ever watched kids
on a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain
slapping in the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
 
   You’d better slow down.
   Don’t dance so fast.
   Time is short.
   The music won’t last.
 
Do you run through each day
on the fly?
When you ask “How are you?”
do you hear the reply?
When the day is done
do you lie in your bed
with the next hundred chores
running though your head?
 
   You’d better slow down.
   Don’t dance so fast.
   Time is short.
   The music won’t last.
Ever told your child,
we’ll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,
not seen his sorrow?
Ever lost touch,
let a good friendship die
‘cause you never had time
to call and say “Hi”?
 
   You’d better slow down.
   Don’t dance so fast.
   Time is short.
   The music won’t last.

​When you run so fast to get somewhere
you miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
it is like an unopened gift ...
thrown away.
 
   Life is not a race.
   Do take it slower.
   Hear the music
   before the song is over.
Picture
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by Jacqui White

21/5/2017

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Posted 2 April 2016

​I am the curtain making the light look folded
I am the child who swam in the pool in the forest
and was not discovered
I am the little girl who saw round rocks blink
and glow in the limpid waters, red and rust and grey
I was loved by my pets and loved them completely.
They were mine, my inheritance and I learned from the way of gentleness
I am the one who asked for help and got it
I wore pale pearls like tears because they were my destiny
I wore black, like a slave, proudly, knowing I was the slave of children
I am the one who saw streams of light pulsing
around the eagles wings as they flew crying into the cup of the lake.
And I am the grown person who never left childhood or its growing or its pain.
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Jozi Monday

21/5/2017

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Posted 12 November 2015

Smashed into a towbar
On my way to breakfast
Jaw-juddering bumpermashbash
Glassburntrubberradiatorfluid

Still in time for breakfast
​
Thank Jozi

​
©Shirley Higgins 
​November 2015

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My Prayer

21/5/2017

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Posted 16 August 2015
Picture
© Chandré Wertheim Aymes
​August 2015
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Listen to your people

21/5/2017

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Poster 26 March 2013

Before King Olof died he divided his kingdom between his two sons Björn and Gustav. King Björn was a very diligent king and very concerned about the welfare of his people. He spent many hours in his council chamber with his advisors planning and receiving reports on the progress of the many projects he initiated to improve the lives of his people.
 
However, every year when the time came to gather the taxes from his people they grumbled at the taxes they were asked to pay. One year King Björn happened to hear his people moan and grumble. He called his finance minister to him and asked if this was common that his people, for whom he did so much, grumbled at taxing time. “Oh yes”, said his minister of finance, “people are never grateful, they moan like this every year. We simply ignore it.” King Björn was not pleased with this answer and he sent his finance minister to speak with the finance minister of King Gustav.
 
The finance minister reported back that in King Gustav’s kingdom the people paid their taxes with a smile. Immediately King Björn sent spies into King Gustav’s kingdom to find out what King Gustav did differently. When the spies returned King Björn was even more puzzled. The spies reported back that things in King Gustav’s kingdom were not nearly as well developed as in King Björn’s kingdom: there were no big water purification plants piping clean water to every home. In King Gustav’s kingdom water was fed from fresh springs to cisterns in the town squares and people would gather at the cistern to collect water and waste a good part of their day. In King Gustav’s kingdom there were no supermarkets, farmers brought their produce to market and sold directly to the public so that the public could never be certain of a steady supply of fresh produce.
 
“How can it be that I work so hard to provide the very best for my people and in return they grumble every year at taxing time,” King Björn asked his advisors, “and in my brothers kingdom things are pretty much as they were when my father was still alive and yet the people seem to be content?” His advisors puzzled over this for a long time but could not give him an answer. So King Björn sent his spies back into King Gustav’s kingdom and instructed them not to return until they had an answer as to why King Gustav’s people were so content.
 
Three months went by before the spies returned. King Björn was already becoming concerned that the spies had found the answer and decided to remain in King Gustav’s kingdom and not return home. Finally, one day the spies returned and came to give their report to King Björn in his council chamber with his advisors all present.
 
“We were not sure where to look”, said one of the spies. “We went into taverns and listened to the people’s conversation, but we were none the wiser as to why these people gave their taxes with joy and were generally content. We sat in the market places and watched and listened to the farmers and traders and to the people who came to buy. They were all content with their lives and carried the burden of their simpler lives with joy. We sat at the village cisterns and listened to the people coming to fetch water and talking for long periods of time. We thought they spent an inordinate amount of time just talking at the village cisterns and were obviously less productive than our people at home.
 
“Finally, a morning dawned and we noticed that everyone was making their way to the palace of King Gustav. So we followed them. King Gustav has a very large courtyard in the centre of his palace and everyone of his people gathered in this courtyard where there is good shade and a cistern of fresh water and farmers had brought a lot of produce and villagers were preparing meals that smelled really good.
 
“In the middle of the courtyard a dais had been erected and here King Gustav and his council sat. When King Gustav spoke he did not tell his people of great ideas that he had had and how he planned to implement them. He asked his people how their lives were and what could be done to improve their conditions. What happened next really surprised us, one by one every one of his people come forward to the dais, from where it was possible to speak so everyone in the courtyard could hear clearly, and spoke of their lives and the good things that had happened in the last six months and then spoke of their needs. The King and his advisors just sat and listened. Three hours after nightfall some people went home and others unpacked bedding to sleep in the courtyard and the next morning the council continued. It progressed without haste and everyone had enough time to speak. Finally, when everyone had spoken the King and his advisors spoke with each other and then King Gustav addressed his people. He spoke for many hours and in his speech he made mention of all the points he had heard from his people and when he spoke of what he and his advisors would do we could hear that he had included all the wishes of his people. The projects that he proposed were modest and did not disrupt the lifestyle that the people were accustomed to but brought relief in all the areas that caused hardship as identified by the people.
 
“Finally we thought we had the answer, so we went to the tax collectors and asked them if we were correct. They confirmed for us that King Gustav’s people are happy to pay taxes every year because they were part of the decision making as to how these taxes would be used to positively affect their lives.”
 
And so it was that King Björn realised that the most import thing of being a king is to get to know your subjects and to listen to them and not to impose on them the ideas he had, but help them to fulfil the desires they have for the betterment of their lives. From that day on King Björn changed his ways and started listening to his people.


©John-Peter Gernaat
26 March 2013

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CHOIR REHEARSAL

21/5/2017

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Posted 1 June 2012

We are all a little less
than we would like to be
in our workaday clothes
cumbered with bags and spectacles
with thermos flasks.
We shuffle our scores
we cough and chat, dispute
pronunciation...

            but as the lovely arpeggios climb
            soar, and resolve themselves
            in shining cadences
            we are more than we are
            we are avatars -
            we are singing up there with the seraphim
            with the ranked choirs of angels.

We are more than ourselves
until the blessed requiem
dies away in peace
the last notes fall
and are stilled
under your serene hand.

©Jane Abrahams
March 2011

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THE DESPOILED

21/5/2017

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Posted 1 May 2012

​after a visit to Fountains Abbey



Grass
an immense ruined shell
and ancient fear.

In the nave
a startled rabbit
flees into a blind alley
crouches
with its face to the wall.

Over centuries it touches me:
            the patient work
            of stone on stone
            the lifting of archway and span
            pillar and corbel
            higher and higher
            to the glory of God
            and the hubris of Man.

I can still see the vanished wings
the grave saints who graced
niche and pediment
their mute spaces
sighing into the wind, the bitter wind
that blows through history
bearing threads of plainsong
and the cries of the beaten and banished

shrunk now
to a pigeon's croon
and the thud
of a terrified rabbit's foot.


©Jane Abrahams
May 2011
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Forward>>

    Titles

    All
    A Poem For Peter By David Wertheim Aymes
    Autumn By Jacqui White
    Blonging By Aaron Mirkin
    Brotherliness - A Found Poem
    Fossil By Jane Fox
    GIFTS By Jane Abrahams
    Handicap By Jacqui White
    Inl In Beatrice By John Roy
    Jozi Monday By Shirley Higgins
    My Prayer By Chandré Wertheim Aymes
    Poem Presented To Yvonne Bester
    Poem Slow Dance
    Resilience By Jan Lampen
    The Michael Flowers By Jacqui White
    THE PINK COUCH By Jane Fox
    The Story Of The Phoenix


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​Address
46 Dover Street corner Pine Avenue
Ferndale
Randburg

GPS:S26.0887400, E27.9962600
​Telephone & Email
Telephone             +27 11 789 3083
WhatsApp              +27 76 697 1340
​Email                       joburg@thechristiancommunity.org.za
​Office hours           08h00 - 13h00

Priests

Rev. Reingard Knausenberger
Office    +27 11 886 2220
Mobile  +27 82 218 1515
​Email     lenker@thechristiancommunity.org.za
​Rev. Michaël Merle
Mobile  +27 83 675 0836
​Email​     michael@thechristiancommunity.org.za

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