A podcast journey of prayer with a focus on the climate and ecological emergency based around Rev Jon Swales' book '26 Prayers for the Climate and Ecological Emergency' .https://atyourservice.arocha.org/en/26-prayers-for-the-climate-and-ecological-emergen
Send us Fan MailWords and Voice- Rev'd Jon SwalesMusic: Used with Permission, Chris Sayburn , 'Father'
Send us Fan Mailwww. cruciformjustice.comMusic, Pixabay , Kolesnikov, The Mounatin, Calm Piano
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Send us Fan MailWords: Rev'd Jon SwalesMusic Pixabay: Piano LamentAfter the Chorus/After the NoiseI wrote this travelling by train through the Alps from Rome to Paris, after reading John Donne's Holy Sonnet XIV, “Batter my heart, three-person'd God.” These two poems trace a movement from the triggered body, where worship can still feel like threat yet there still, despite numbing and distance, is a desire for encounter. I. After the ChorusDo not come to me now as soft advice.Not as the bright smile at the church door. Not as the chorus swelling through the speakers, all uplift and upward hands.The room is singing its predictable liturgy — the slow one, the anthem, the key change meant to lift the heart —and something in me locks.The body remembers what the mouth still cannot say.One chord, and the old rooms open.The brand. The corporate style. The lanyards. The smoothness of it all.Words weaponised like daggers:‘you bring nothing of value to this place.'And suddenly I am back there, inside the room where harm was done and called itself ministry.So come like weather.Come like rain against the chapel windows when the singing grows too loud, when joy itself feels like threat.Break the locked places.There are pews inside me still occupied by ghosts, whole liturgies of fear recited in the blood, old shames hanging there like vestments in the dark.I have called it resilience. I have called it faith. I have called it carrying on.Still the walls sweat.Still the heart, that small battered flat above the old sanctuary, lets in every echo except peace.So come not as guest but as the one who knows the building was never theirs.Kick in the swollen door.Shatter the stained glass of the god they handed me — the one who looked too much like power, too much like control, too much like men who mistook harm for holiness.Burn what must burn.The false shepherd. The polished liturgy. The songs that ask the wounded to rise too quickly.Batter my heart, threefold mercy, Father of the bruised, Christ of the locked room, Wild Goose moving not in the amplifier's roar but in the tremor beneath it.Undo me.Not as they undid me.Not to wound but to make room for breath.For I have been an occupied city, streets patrolled by fear, every chorus a siren, every bridge lifted in worship a trigger.
Send us Fan MailWords and Voice: Rev'd Jon Swales www.cruciformjustice.comMusic by Tunetank from Pixabay
Send us Fan MailWords and Voice: Rev'd Jon Swaleswww.cruciformjustice.commusic. pixabay
Send us Fan MailWords and Voice: Rev'd Jon SwalesMusic: Pixabay
Send us Fan MailWords and Voice: Rev'd Jon SwalesMusic Pixabay
Send us Fan Mailwords and voice Rev'd Jon Swalesmusic Pixabay
Send us Fan MailWords and voice Rev'd Jon Swaleswww.cruciformjustice.com Music Pixabay
Send us Fan MailWords Rev'd Jon SwalesMusic : Pixabay 'Only in the Mornings'
Send a textWords & Voice: Rev'd Jon SwalesMusic. Pixabay, Sarkatvelo- Piano Background
Send a textWords: Rev'd Jon SwalesMusic: Chris Sayburnhttps://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/he-s-seen-the-wounds
Send a textWords: Rev'd Jon SwalesMusic: Music by Denis Pavlov from Pixabayhttps://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/come-see
Send us a textwww.cruciformjustice.comwords: Jon Swalesmusic. pixabay 'Hope'The Waiting of All ThingsThe whole creation waits—not quietly,but leaning forwardwith the ache of expectation.Galaxies tilt toward the dark,spirals cupped like listening ears.Stars hold their breathbetween burning and blessing,knowing there is morethan endless expansion and collapse.Rocks remember touch.They remember being named goodbefore they were quarried,before they were brokenfor speed and profit.They bear the weight of violence,the long erosion of sorrow,and still they wait—patient as prayer pressed into stone.Rivers keep movingthrough poisoned veins of land.Waterfalls falllike tears that refuse to be wasted.They groan with the sound of mourning,yet rush with hope,as if every plunge knowsit is not the end.Rainbows stretch themselvesacross wounded skies,not forgetting the flood,but daring to believethat mercy still arches over ruin.They wait,colours pulled taut as promise.Whales sing in the deep.Their voices carry grief and memory,songs heavy with plastic and silence,yet tuned for joy.They groan—but their groaning is music,a labour-song for a worldnot yet born.Trees rise on tiptoes,peering through the dark.Roots remembering light.Branches leaning toward dawn.Then—they clap their hands.Not politely.Not on cue.But wildly.Leaves shudder with memory.Bark strikes barkin stubborn praise.They clap because roots know resurrectionlong before theology names it.They clap because hopeis older than despair.All creation is watching,eyes wide with longing,for the revealingof the children of God.The world is not what it will be—and it knows it.When they appear—not by courage,not by timing,but because the hour has come—creation exhales.Rocks loosen their grip.Rivers quicken their dance.Forests erupt in applause.Galaxies widen with joy.This is the glory creation waits for:not escape,not domination,but belonging made visible.And the whole world—still groaning,still hoping—keeps leaning forward,waitingfor love unveiledto take fleshagain.Rev'd Jon Swales Feb 2026.
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Send us a textWords- Jon SwalesMusic: Pixabay , Samuel F Johanns, The Lamenthttps://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/grace-may-yet-win
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Send us a textWords/Voice Rev'd Jon Swaleshttps://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/the-searchmusic: Pixabay Music Yevhenii Kovalenko 'Mellow Ambient/Piano
Send us a textWords: Jon SwalesMusic: Pixabay , folk acoustichttps://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/i-hate-god-but-i-met-jesus
Send us a textWords- Rev'd Jon SwalesMusic: Pixabay 'Tomorrow Morning'https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/_held
Send us a textWords- Jon SwalesBeats: Chris Sayburnhttps://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/wild-goose-turkey-cold
Send us a textWords: Jon Swales https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/she-came-in-swearing
Send us a textwords-Rev'd Jon SwalesMusic. Music by Pablo Silver from Pixabay 'Piano y cello"https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/dancing-in-the-sea-a-lighthouse-poem
Send us a textWords- Jon Swaleshttps://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/swing-wide-the-doors
Send us a textWords- Rev'd Jon SwalesBeats: SayburnSee https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/he-wrote-the-date-for-the-lad-who-once-lived-in-the-car-park-opposite-leeds-uni-a-true-story-framed
Send us a textwords Rev'd Jon Swalesbeats Sayburn 'Father'https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/he-set-himself-on-fire
Send us a textWords Jon SwalesBeats: Sayburnhttps://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/ninety-nine-and-the-one-that-got-away
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Send us a textWords- Rev'd Jon SwalesBeats- Chris Sayburn "Father'https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/no-one-can-snatch-me
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Send us a textwords- Rev'd Jon Swalesbeats- CHris Sayburn 'Waiting'https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/the-rejected-stone
Send us a textwords- Rev'd Jon SwalesBeats, Chris Sayburn 'Passing By'https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/spikenard-ash
Send us a textWords- Rev'd Jon SwalesBeats- Sayburn- 'Great Commision'https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/magnificat-in-the-gutter
Send us a textWords- Rev'd Jon SwalesBeats: Sayburn 'Passing by'https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/a-christian-without-tears
Send us a textWords: Rev'd Jon SwalesBlog Post. https://www.cruciformjustice.com/post/cruciform-adaptation-a-call-to-the-church-in-a-time-of-unraveling
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