Today is the day the Church of England remembers John Keble, a priest, scholar and poet who was part of the Oxford Movement which so enriched the church’s mission and liturgy. He has a special place for me in my own calendar of saints because, almost exactly 200 years ago he began a cycle of poems going through every Sunday in the Christian Year and celebrating its distinctive mysteries which was eventually published as ‘The Christian Year” and proved immensely popular and helpful to many Christians all over the world, and went through 50 editions in Keble’s own lifetime. Keble’s book, together with George Herbert’s The Temple was one of the inspirations for my own book of poems for the liturgical year: Sounding The Seasons. So on Keble’s day I am reposting the opening sonnet from that book, simply called Sounding the Seasons, a sonnet which meditates on what we hope to achieve by keeping the seasons, keeping holy and memorial days. Of course the truths on which we meditate over the course of the liturgical year, from the mystery of Christmas to the all-transforming drama of Good Friday and Easter, are true all the time! But we do not remember or think of them all the time, for time itself, ‘the subtle thief’, can so easily take even the memory of truth from us. So it was a deep wisdom that led the early church to turn ‘Time the thief’ into ‘Time the messenger’, to make the very medium that might have taken the truth away from us become the medium that restores it, as Time brings round and renews each Holy Day.
As usual you can hear me read the poem by pressing the ‘play’ button if it appears, or else by clicking on the title. This recording was made early in the project before the sequence was finished, or the book was published.
Tangled in time, we live with hints and guesses
Turning the wheel of each returning year,
But in between our failures and successes
We sometimes glimpse the Love that casts out fear,
Sometimes the heart remembers its own reasons
And breathes a Sanctus as we tell our story,
Tracing the tracks of grace, sounding the seasons
That lead at last through time to timeless glory.
From the first yearnings for a Saviours birth
To the full joy of knowing sins forgiven
We gather as His church on Gods’s good earth
To share an echo of the choirs of heaven
I share these hints, returning what was lent,
Turning to praise each ‘moment’s monument’.
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