The smell of cooped up angels

"It's all this smell of cooped up angels worries me."
Christopher Fry A Sleep of Prisoners 1951

"That's no way to talk about your brother,"
said Jesus to Martha, when she told him Lazarus stinks.
"After all he has been dead three days."

"Clear out the cave
Let Lazarus live.
Am I the God of the dead or of the living."

The Victorians collected butterflies and kept them in glass cases
pinned down as the colours fade
mocking the freedom of flight.

The church keeps its saints in caskets and phials
To be paraded and displayed under controlled conditions.
See how we have
captured the essence of sanctity,
trapped holiness in our walls,
pinned piety down.

Angels too, if caught,
would have been pickled in formaldehyde
and celebrated on feast days.
"How great we are to have found so great a prize."

But unlock the door
roll back the stone, break open the cases,
let the spirit go free.

What stink would then emerge, as the cooped up angels fly free.
Generations of hot air
mimicking the odour of sanctity.
The must of mildewed books unread.
The linger of yesterday's incense.
Candle grease stained carpets quietly mouldering.
"I will not smell your solemn assemblies,
instead let justice roll like a river."
Like Isaac, seek instead the smell of a field that is blessed

Break down the doors and unlock the windows
Take herbs and fragrant oils
Onycha and cinnamon
Cassia and aloe.
The essence of earth, air, fire and water.
Anoint the church,
let it smell like a field that is blessed.

And let the angels go free.
No longer hampered by ritual or doctrine;
institution or establishment.
But free to take wing on the wind,
to follow the current of the spirit,
across boundaries of peoples and nations.

Let the people proclaim:
not how God worked in the past,
nor how God is in books:
nor to prayer others words.

But her action today:
her action in you:
opening doors
releasing oppression
lifting the crushing weight of history
from your shoulders.

Then smell the fresh air
fill your lungs with the peace
your mind with the hope
of a community of faith
of angels and saints.

And take wing on the wind
on your journey with God.

©Peter G Ashby 2008