A short but lovely poem, this evening, a Celtic reflection on the Trinity. Simple and complex, one one level just so, and on another incomprehensible, on all levels one loving God, who is everything, and loves us.
I pray to God the Creator, God the Child,
And to God the Holy Spirit
Whose infinite greatness enfolds the world,
In persons three and one,
In essence simple and triune,
Who ever-living lives.
Let it be so. Let it be so.
Amen
Around the world this week Women are being celebrated in all sorts of places, including on our own BBC Radio 4. Last Saturday, on Thought for the Day, John Bell, of the Iona Community, shared a wonderful thought. In case you missed it, here it is:
Just as the last of the welshcakes from St David's day are finished, we celebrate his mother, St Non.
Non, or Nonita, or Nonna, was a nun who lived in Pembrokeshire. According to legend her father was Cenyr, a nobleman of Carer Goch, near to where the cathedral of St David's now stands. Non was raped by Sanctus, King of Ceredigion. When carrying David a passing priest, a renowned preacher, was struck unable to preach, which was later thought to foretell David's skill as a preacher. Non gave birth near the sea, where the chapel of St Non now stands, and a rock embedded under the altar reputedly split as she clutched it in the pain of giving birth.
Non later travelled to Cornwall and later Brittany, where she died late in the fifth century. Her son David, of course carried on to live a great life.
