Vultures. Drought. Good Friday


The vultures have been gathering outside my home, both yesterday and today.

The level of the water in “our” pond is very low because of our drought, and I fear that the fishes are dying. I think that the vultures know this.

It seems to me that vultures are crucifixion birds. I see them circling the crosses – waiting, waiting, and waiting - only to be cheated in the case of Jesus’ death on Good Friday.

Good Friday; drought; vultures: all coming together in my mind.

My memory takes me back to some of the exciting liturgies we used at St. James’s in Cambridge.

Here is a bit from “Laughing Bird Resources” in Australia - a bit which we used one Holy Week.


Dry seeds of hope thirst for life-giving rain;
Hard heartlands yearn for a softening shower;
The dust and smoke of the parched earth
rise up with the prayers of your people:

Send your Holy Spirit to call us by name and lead us home.

Wearied by the callous heat of hostility,
your Son beats back the fires of hell,
and calls us to follow him on the road to life;
on through the charred valley of despair.

Send your Holy Spirit to call us by name and lead us home.

Days shorten and clouds darken the horizon;
Bleached skeleton trees warn of unspeakable death,
and the crows keep a knowing eye on our journey.

Send your Holy Spirit to call us by name and lead us home.

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