Even in the Golden Age of Faith in England
You shone brighter than most Blessed Guthlac.
But who in the South can see and love you?
A brigand who repented?
‘That is laudable.’
A monastic at Repton?
An admirer of the Desert Fathers?
‘They hid the light of the Gospel
And practiced works righteousness.’
A follower of their ways
All alone on Crowland isle?
‘That is unbiblical.’
He fought against demons
And overcame them with the Cross,
The Psalms, and prayers to St Bartholomew?
‘He ought to read our pastor’s
PowerPoint sermon notes instead.’
A miracle worker, a prophet,
A friend of swallows? A death
Attended by uncreated Light,
The sweetest of smells, and angelic singing?
‘But he did not talk in tongues,
So he is false, and Pega his sister-saint.’
O meek, heroic Guthlac, be not wroth with the South.
Remember the age in which she lives;
That for many years, true Faith was hidden from her.
But as a loving father, guide her back
To the Sheepfold of the Good Shepherd.
Then with hearts’ eyes uplit, she will know you,
And seek you, and sing you worthy hymns of praise.
Ikon from http://www.pravoslavie.ru/english/78881.htm, opened 11 April 2017, St Guthlac’s Day
St Guthlac, pray that the swamps and bayous of the South would be filled with monastics and hermits as once the bogs were in England.
From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Everglades#Ecosystems, opened 11 April 2017
Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð!
Anathema to the Union!