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?
‘How distasteful!’
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!
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