The night is dark. All that is in front of us is dark. There is no hope of ending. All we can do is endure. How do you endure the unendurable? I don’t know. But it must be done if we are not to die.
For Jesus there was the agony of torture, the knowledge that there was nothing that could stop it. No, he faced the cruellest of deaths. How did he endure? I don’t know. And I do not know how we face the dark and the pain. All I know is that we can run away and hide but it will pursue us, or we can face it. Or we can give up. But can we give up?
When we are in the darkness perhaps all we can do is call for help. We can shut our eyes and pretend that it is dark only because our eyes are shut and that everything is really okay, or we can open our eyes and accept that there is darkness and then, maybe then, we call for help.
And help is not someone solving it. Instead it is like Jesus wanting someone to stay awake with him on that night before his death. Sometimes all we can ask is that someone just stay awake with us in the darkness so that we are not alone. For the darkness is very lonely, but someone there in the darkness, maybe just reaching over and squeezing a hand, can remind us that we are not alone.
Maybe we need to wait in the darkness together until there is a faint dawn. For Jesus, after the night of prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane, when dawn broke worse was to come, death in the most agonizing manner. I cannot conceive of the cruelty of humans who would do this to one another. I cannot bear it to think of it because it is too much.
Instead I must wait for the light; I must sit and wait in the darkness, holding on, hoping that there will be light. And I’m going to ask people to wait with me, to wait together for the light that will come one day.
In the terrors of Maundy Thursday night and Good Friday it feels that the darkness will never end, the pain will never end. I think of the relief that Mary, Jesus’ mother, and Mary Magdalene and Mary and Martha, all of them, must have felt when Jesus died. It was over; the agony of their beloved one over. They must have thanked God that it was over. I would have done. Then they would have gone to live their lives in the new, terrible normal. And I think they would have done so together.
So I say to you this Good Friday, if you are in darkness, stay together, call for help. Be next to each other. You cannot solve the darkness and the pain for each other; all you can do is hold on, be there for each other, wait together, because even Good Friday ended eventually. And what the women saw as the new normal of Holy Saturday, also known as Black Saturday, ended too.
It ended with another dawn, a dawn when there was hope again, when everything fell into place, when it was okay. When it was better than okay. When there was hope, when there was light, a new way of living. It all fell into place. And there will be a dawn for us too.
But that is for the future. For now let’s sit in the present together in the dark and be with each other, not afraid to tell each other what our darkness is, where we need light. Or if we have no words for that, if we cannot tell people, then just understand that we need each other.
Hope Amidst the Chaos, a Holy Communion service with music based on Les Misérables, for LGBTQIA+ people and their allies, will take place at St Mary’s, Quarry Street, Guildford, on Wednesday, March 20th, 7.30pm.
Come along and sing some really cracking tunes and share in a communion service on a theme of hope amidst the chaos. Contact Stella for more details.
A massive thank you to all those who took part in the Farnham Literary Festival’s Poetry Competition which the parish organised on behalf of the festival.
We had an incredible 138 entries which came from Farnham and much further afield, as far, in fact, as Nepal! And around 100 people gathered at St Mark’s on March 11th to find out who had won and to hear poetry readings from the winners, runners-up and anyone else who wanted to read. We also heard from the two wonderful judges –Ellora Sutton who judged the adult poems, andCoral Rumble who did the same for the under-16s. Please read their work!
And the winners were…
Under-16
First prize The Robin by Margot Sidwell-Woods
Second prize Many Tongues, One Voice by Jet Pariera-Jenks
Third prize Hope by Thomas James
Highly commended Save Us by Daisy Brice Hope for Autism by Monty Monro Be Hopeful by Hannah Jakobek Hopeful Poem by Kobi Green Hope by Alice Howell I hope for a Dog by Lyra Buttery Hope by Jessica Mellor A Handful of Hope by Florence Champion Hope by Alina Liepsch Hope by Jaxson Wright
Adult
First prize Insomnia and Death of the Queen by Rodney Wood
Second prize Sift andScatter by Chris Hunter
Third prize There is a Light that Never Goes Out by Liz Usher
Highly commended Frensham by Victoria D’Cruz Sunday Lunch by Lorna Darcy Looking for Hope by Mel Cracknell Worship by Vicky Samara
And now for the poems:
Under-16s
First Prize The Robin by Margot Sidwell-Woods
The sky is dark Sluggishly grey We trudge along Through the ashen day And on this morning With its charcoal tint There’s a flutter of feathers A robin’s beak and wings Its eyes are bright And its breast is red It ruffles its feathers And tips back its head And melody pours out Splashing into the air High, sweet notes That don’t belong there But one day they could In a new clear sky And, like this bird, I could learn to fly I turn to stare At the red over its heart And my mouth twitches It’s a smile Small – but it’s a start
Second Prize Many Tongues, One Voice by Jet Pariera-Jenks
The National History Museum has opened its doors And children are scouting the corridors Gazing at evolution’s historic trail From fierce dinosaurs to slow sea snails Fascinated by ancient fossils and bones And marvelling at geodes captured in stone.
But the scene that draws everyone’s eyes Swims above them as if the seas filled the skies The skeleton of a blue whale hangs in the air And all the children stand and stare They crane their necks to the ceiling to see This oceanic creature of nature’s beauty.
They point and gape at her white bleached bones In their hands lie forgotten their cameras and phones One boy turns to another and grins “Isn’t Dóchas the whale a beautiful thing!” His Irish accent is thick and his companion frowns “This whale is called Haffnung, she swims where we’d drown.”
A Spanish girl interrupts the German’s words “No! She’s Esperanza, it’s wrong what you’ve heard.” More children are adding names to the fray “She’s Von!” “Tanna!” “Tumanako!” Everyone wants a say Children start quarrelling, a fight breaks out The once peaceful museum echoes with screams and shouts.
They argue about the whale’s name Kicking and punching without decency or shame Until an old man holds up his hands for quiet “Children, there is no need for this angry riot!” The museum echoes with the hush All the youngsters look away and blush.
“You’re all right, the whale is called Dóchas, Hoffnung, Von and Esperanzas Because all of these words are one and the same They all mean hope, and Hope is this whale’s name She hopes that her sisters are safe in the sea And that we stop hunting her kin so needlessly.”
Hope is important in all walks of life We should unite our voices to keep it alive Instead of quarrelling when none of us are wrong We should spread the message through poems, laughter and song Through war ridden countries and earthquake-shaken ground Let’s join hands in hope, let the beauty resound.
After Jalaluddin Rumi, 16th century Sufi mystic
Third prize Hope by Thomas James
Hope.. it is in all of us; in soldiers during wars in doctors when performing operations in all of our friends and families … in you
Sometimes it is hard to find sometimes it is hidden in the depths sometimes we feel we lose it but remember it is always with you
Once you find hope all your goals will be within reach so there is no need to mope and that’s what I am trying to teach
Hope is in all of us In the strong and the brave In the weak and the shy In the happy and the sad Hope is in all of us
… and it is the most important thing….
Highly Commended
I Hope for a Dog by Lyra Buttery
I hope I get a dog, I’ll walk it every day, Even if it’s rainy, I’ll still go out to play. I’ll feed her in the morning and in the evening too, And when we go for walks she’ll do a great big poo! I hope she will be small, brown and fluffy, And I will brush her every day so she doesn’t get too scruffy. I hope she jumps on the bed at night. And sometimes gives me a terrible fright. I hope to call her Daisy And I’ll love her, even if she’s crazy.
A Handful of Hope by Florence Champion
Everyone Has a Handful of Hope Hidden in their pocket. It helps you think, helps you cope When you’re struggling.
Some say hope is red, Some say it’s yellow, Green, Blue. But who is actually telling the truth? Well everyone is correct, As hope is not just one thing, But many things, Many items, Many thoughts, Many communities brought together. That’s hope.
Hope doesn’t always work, Although it cheers you up on a gloomy day, Takes you away from things, Things that put obstacles in the way, Of achieving your dreams.
Yes, of achieving your dreams Those things called doubt and worry and fear, They line up on display, They try and pull down tears from your eyes – They make you afraid. But as I said, You can take all of those things away, If you have a handful of hope, Hidden in your pocket, As it helps you think, helps you cope, When you’re struggling.
Hope by Alina Liepsch
Hope is a special something We cannot live without. We can all have hope, And we should not doubt.
We hope things will get better, When everything goes wrong. Hope gives us what we need, It helps us to stay strong.
It keeps us going when we’re tired, And helps us when we fall. If we hope for what we already have, Then that’s not hope at all.
But hope for what we can’t yet see, Means patience, calm and waiting. When we have something to believe It makes a life worth living.
Hope by Jaxson Wright
In a world full of war Sadness and pain, When the winters are cold And pouring with rain, When people are hungry Homeless and poor Nowhere to sleep Except the dirty wet floor, The glimmer of hope That brightens the sky, That spring is coming The floors will get dry, The sound of laughter Will fill the warm air, I hope we are happy I hope that hopes there.
Hope by Jessica Mellor When there’s an ominous hole in the back of your mind, You feel like drowning, struggling to survive. When you think your incarcerated in your grave, Hope is only found from among the brave, The never-ending dissatisfaction that is suffocating within you, You’re entrapped in your mind, not knowing what to do. Everyone struggles from time to time, Not understanding life, thinking that’s a crime. But if you look into the distance, there’s a shining light, Part of your individuality can radiate so bright. Not knowing there’s a way out, A place to escape, Not seeing there’s a hope, It’s easy to lose your way. Tring to navigate a path, Just trying to stay alive, Just to keep breathing To get through the day and night. Even through the darkest of times, There are glimpses of hope, But sometimes not clear enough to see, For some it’s far too much to cope.
Hope for Autism By Monty Munro
A Person with autism is Underestimated Talking without emotion Inventive – thinking outside the box Struggles academically Tedious it feels Imaginative thinking Creative thoughts
Hopeful Poem by Kobi Green
Hope is a wonderful thing it surrounds everyone From the stars To the tiny, tiny bees The whole world is surrounded by it You just have to find it.
Be hopeful By Hannah Jakobek
Have faith in yourself. Open your mind. People need to have hope. Eventually it will work out. Free from pain. Uniquely you. Look for hope wherever you are. Live in the moment. You are amazing.
Hope By Alice Howell
I Hope for lots and lots of chocolate at Easter. I Hope the Easter Bunny comes. I Hope for candyfloss and cuddles. I Hope for lots of fun and family. I Hope for sunshine.
Save Us By Daisy Brice
Darkness, fear, hate, all of this is an empty void People waiting for it all to change gears for a brighter day. I sat under a range of leaves on a tree Thunder hit the three trees Leaves falling and crying. The world Dark falling, evil walks past us. But I hope the retrieval of the Greatness Hope with hope The sky bright with a little rain for the crops Icebergs safe Everything is alright Forests huge with something to prove But this could be through Unless we Dream incredible Dreams You can save us all You need to hope.
Adults
First Prize INSOMNIA AND DEATH OF THE QUEEN by Rodney Wood
At night, when all the colours die / they read about themselves in colour / with their eyelids shut Craig Raine, A Martian Sends A Postcard Home
My sleep routine starts after the news at 10.30. I flip through 119 TV channels which don’t feature actual programmes only clips of the Queen, Paddington Bear, marmalade sandwiches and adverts I’m not interested in.
After that I take umpteen supplements: lavender, valerian root, melatonin, magnesium, a glass of Dom Pérignon, listen to “Clair de Lune” by Debussy, have a warm shower, a light snack, write a to do list, put away my phone before the sleep cycle can begin.
Last night, 8 September 2022, for example, I shut my eyes to an empty screen before clips of the Queen, Paddington Bear, marmalade sandwiches and adverts I’m not interested in about paperless TV licences, buying
and selling cars, star sign based cuisine, bread, burgers, avocados, life insurance, slots, EuroMillions, swimwear, equity release, shirts, video poker, loans, beer, smoothies, mints, holidays in Greece, mobile telephones, roulette, perfume, coffee machines, Kane to score next,
sunscreen, boilers, hemp extracts, home delivery, hair colouring, online casino, racing, video bingo, chocolate, biscuits, cough drops, trains, credit, online sports betting, home insulation, insurance, hemp extracts, trainers, how to stop
gambling, gambling and more gambling, 5 minute party political broadcasts on behalf of All 4 Freedom, Charter, Family, Scotland – Unhyphenated, Climate, Rubbish, Church of the Militant Elvis, Count Binface, Motherworld and the other 337 political parties.
After that another clip of afternoon tea with the Queen, Paddington Bear, marmalade sandwiches and only then, the alarm goes. Another sleep interrupted but there’s always hope I’ll sleep before the next coronation.
Second Prize Sift and Scatter by Chris Hunter
I stood in that yellow, searing heat; a blasted amalgam of sift and scatter. A scape shaped of grief, shimmer, pine roots and shadows cast by cypress, as black as sump oil.
The unplanned end to a furnace thickened, crumpled stumble from gate to tree to stone.
In the autumnal chill of chain grey, that land remains neutral. Just yellowed grass and cold dirt. Now, instead, it is a sultry, soured, shifting molasses of emotion.
The moment draws me down to the ground. This strange gravity of everyone interred. Once strangers but now unified in soil, to clay, to sand.
The words of everyone who has passed, fusing and dividing for those who wish to hear it. The whispers of the next day, early light after loss, the quiet voice from another room. The unmercenary kiss to the brow. Dates forgotten. Emotion not.
Now this place gives back all that has been taken from those who lie here and those who got to walk away. It gives back each regret in one long breath of scoria-laden intent. It raises strange hope from former pain and leaves a message throughout the earth beneath my feet.
There in that dust blown sift and scatter. You have gone. You really have gone. Though you knew this place and we are both here, sharing that hope that you said once lost, would lose you.
Third Prize There is a light that never goes out By Liz Usher If Hope is a thing with feathers it fell down our chimney last night and came to its rest on a red-brick dust nest behind our gas flame-effect fire. We’ve not used the gas fire for ages – we daren’t turn it on for the cost… but hope springs eternal in appliance infernal, you can’t turn the pilot light off.
Highly commended
Frensham by Victoria D’Cruz
Small pebbles rock beneath our feet Cold wet toes curling The wind whips your lack of hair not flying now My thick locks knotting with fear We leave our clothes, laid neatly for our return We walk, uttering only smiles of encouragement.
I used to run straight in Embracing the cold shudder that hit my perter chest. Sending my heart racing, that weird feeling when I thought of you. Breath gasping Quickening the panic.
My Dad told me it’s not real sand and swans could break my arms.
Today together I edge in at the precipice. Swimming shoes hiding my unmanicured nails, tow-float spread around my middle age Little by little I stop, step until the tiny waves comes to me I move to them controlling my breath. In…. Hold…. Out… Drawing imaginary squares of air. Thighs Waist Boobs Shoulders The rush as a hopeful laugh slaps me in the face.
Sunday Lunch by Lorna Darcy
Whenever we have roast chicken For lunch on a Sunday And the carcass, Pale and broken open Sits steaming, Speared on the carving block Peeled carrots, Peas seething, Potatoes and parsnips burnished, He carefully frees the wishbone From the frame of the bird. Strips the malleable white flesh from the brittle bones. Holding up the delicate V, He wraps his little finger round one Tine And offers the other, Jagged as a tooth, To me.
I pinch it between thumb and forefinger To get a better grip Knowing with unbreakable, unshakeable certainty That when we pull apart, He will come away with the greater portion. Always the victor. The good futures wishbone Aloft like a ragged pennant In his finger. In all the times we have enacted This minute ritual I have never, ever won.
And yet, he offers it to me, and there is always hope.
Looking for Hope by Mel Cracknell
My son wore red The tense is past A clue, a statement, a feeling or reality? Mine His
The robin wakes at dawn stays until nightfall. How do I know? His song is his voice he tells the world here I am.
Come and find out the winners of the Farnham Poetry Competition at an Awards Evening which will be held at St Mark’s Church on Saturday, March 11th, from 5pm.
The winning entries to both the adult and under-16 competition will be revealed along with second- and third-place and highly commended entries in an evening which will also feature an open mic for all local poets, and performances by the two judges Ellora Sutton and Coral Rumble.
It’s been an amazing competition with almost 150 entries, all on the theme of hope, from near and far, including an entry from Nepal. The winners will have the chance to read their work then everyone else will be invited to come forward and read.
The evening starts at 5pm so that children can leave early at the interval at around 6.15pm if they wish. Refreshments will be served and admission is free.
The children’s poetry competition is being judged by poet Coral Rumble and the adult one by poet Ellora Sutton. Ellora is a Hampshire-based poet and museum person. Her work has been published in The Poetry Review, The North, bath magg, and Popshot, among others, and she reviews poetry for Mslexia. Her latest pamphlet, Antonyms for Burial, was published in 2022 by Fourteen Poems and is the Poetry Book Society’s Spring 2023 Pamphlet Choice. She tweets @ellora_sutton, or you can find her at ellorasutton.com
Coral Rumble is a popular, award-winning poet, with five poetry collections, plus 170+ anthology contributions. The Adventures of the Owl and the Pussycat (picture book) was longlisted for the Oscars Book Prize Award.
Coral won the Caterpillar Poetry Prize, 2018. Her collections have been promoted by education magazines and shortlisted for awards. Her verse novel, LittleLight (2021) was a recommendation for National Poetry Day 2021, and was a chosen text for Empathy Day 2022. It has also been longlisted for the UKLA Book Awards 2023. Her debut novel, Jakub’s Otter will be published in 2023.
The Farnham Poetry Competition is run in conjunction with the Farnham Literary Festival which runs until March 12.
The Farnham Poetry Competition 2023 has now opened and this year the theme is hope.
There is a children’s competition, open to under-16s, and an adult one, and entrants are asked to write a poem on the theme of hope – what gives them hope, what hope is, where we might find it, anything about hope.
Poems should be sent by email to poetry@badshotleaandhale.org or by post to Farnham Poetry Competition, St Mark’s Church, Alma Lane, Farnham, GU9 0LT, to arrive by 5pm on Friday, February 24.
The competition is being run by the parish and is part of the Farnham Literary Festival which is being held across Farnham between March 3 and 12.
The children’s poetry competition is being judged by poet Coral Rumble and the adult one by poet Ellora Sutton. The competition is free to enter and there will be prizes for the first prize-winners and runners-up in both categories. The winners will be announced at the poetry final evening on Saturday, March 11, at St Mark’s Church at 5pm, when there will also be an open mic for anyone to share their poetry, and the two judges will also perform their work.
Stella Wiseman, who is organising the competition on behalf of the Literary Festival, said: “We are living through extraordinarily difficult times at the moment and sometimes we can feel pretty hopeless. But there is hope around us and within us and this competition is an opportunity to explore where we might find it, what gives us hope, how we share that hope, really anything about hope.
“Last year, the poetry competition really showed the breadth of talent, ideas and sheer joy to be found in people and their writing and we really hope that this year will be the same. Please do have a go, and just enjoy yourselves writing.
“And once again we are delighted to have Coral Rumble and Ellora Sutton on board to judge the competition. They are both inspiring poets and we are honoured that they are taking part.”
Coral Rumble (left) and Ellora Sutton
Ellora Sutton is a Hampshire-based poet and museum person. She is the Creative Engagement Officer at Jane Austen’s House, and has been the Poet-in-Residence at both Jane Austen’s House and Petersfield Museum. Her work has been published inThe Poetry Review, The North,bath magg, and Popshot, among others, and she reviews poetry for Mslexia. Her latest pamphlet, Antonyms for Burial, was published in 2022 by Fourteen Poems and is the Poetry Book Society‘s Spring 2023 Pamphlet Choice. She tweets @ellora_sutton, or you can find her at ellorasutton.com
Coral Rumble is a popular, award-winning poet, with five poetry collections, plus 170+ anthology contributions. The Adventures of the Owl and the Pussycat (picture book) was longlisted for Oscar’s Book Prize Award.
Coral won the Caterpillar Poetry Prize, 2018. Her collections have been promoted by education magazines and shortlisted for awards. Her verse novel, LittleLight (2021) was a recommendation for National Poetry Day 2021, and was a chosen text for Empathy Day 2022. It has also been longlisted for the UKLA Book Awards 2023. Her debut novel, Jakub’s Otter will be published in 2023.
Entrants should state whether they are entering the adult or under-16 category. Adults with particular educational needs may enter the under-16s category (call 07842761919 or email for further information).
The judges’ decisions are final and no correspondence will be entered into.
Please find the Taizé service for this week. Special thanks to June and Olivia Jasper for the chants. Please feel free to join in with them – the words are on the screen.
Image by Lars Hammar on flickr.
Serving the Villages North of Farnham: Badshot Lea, Hale, Heath End & Weybourne
The Parish of Badshot Lea and Hale 