FEAST OF THE PRESENTATION

OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST
by Fr. Harold Macdonald

Catering, busy ladies group
yet another pot of soup;
scalloped spuds, of course the ham
women chattering in the hall
kitchen clattering pot and pan
were You really here at all?

Didn’t see You at the door
(We’d make a place, for several more)

To the church You came, perhaps
windows sealed, airless must
silent narthex, nave and apse,
altar, credence, decked with dust;
dead flies on sills, buzzed out, death’s stare;
Did you come and no one there?
Did we leave You in the lurch,
Your holy apostolic church?

You didn’t try the parish hall?
That’s where you’d have found us all.