Tuesday, 29 March 2011

why did the chicken cross the road?

I did a painting of a chicken. I'm not sure why except I liked it. Our neighbor has chickens - so maybe I'm subconsciously 'keeping up with the Jones'. There is even a Radio 4 programme these days on raising chickens. For some it has become an obsession. People blog on Fowl lessons - lessons learned from the flock I also came across this book whilst surfing: Hen and the art of chicken maintenance I love the title.

But lets stick with the age old question - WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD? Here are my top dozen favorite answers (in descending order)

B.F. Skinner: Because the external influences which had pervaded its sensorium from birth had caused it to develop in such a fashion that it would tend to cross roads, even while believing these actions to be of its own free will.

Jacques Derrida: Any number of contending discourses may be discovered within the act of the chicken crossing the road, and each interpretation is equally valid as the authorial intent can never be discerned, because structuralism is DEAD, DAMMIT, DEAD!

Ludwig Wittgenstein: The possibility of "crossing" was encoded into the objects "chicken" and "road", and circumstances came into being which caused the actualization of this potential occurrence.

Albert Einstein: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road crossed the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.

Mrs Thatcher: This chicken's not for turning.

Douglas Adams: Forty-two.

Darwin: It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.

Plato: For the greater good.

Ralph Waldo Emerson: It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.

Blake: To see heaven in a wild fowl.......

Buddha: If you ask this question, you deny your own chicken-nature.

Donne: It crosseth for thee.

Monday, 28 March 2011

Sadhu Sundur Singh - Iconic Indian

This time a picture inspired by Sadhu Sundar Singh (1889-1929). Except he looks a bit like Captain Haddock in Tin Tin ('Blistering Barnacles'....) I copied it from a B&W picture , Maybe I should have painted him in a Saffron robe....
I just have one book on him: 'The Gospel of Sadu Sindar Singh" by Frederich Heiler ISPK 1989 (First published in 1924 under the title 'Sadhu Sundar Singh Ein Apostel des Ostens und Westens' abridged translation by Olive Wyon) And it only cost me 50Rs in India. It is available as a FREE googledocs download
There are some other good online resources - an introduction to his life plus of course a Wiki version and the new world encyclopedia entry and if you speak German try this. He was obviously very popular in Germany, having visited in 1920s (he also visited Britain, Australia and the States on a preaching tour)

He was converted from a Sikh background in Dec 1904. He was disillusioned and suicidal at the time. He describes his conversion in his own words:

“Suddenly — towards half-past four — a great light in his little room. He thought the house was on fire, opened the door and looked out ; there was no fire there. He closed the door and went on praying. Then there dawned upon him a wonderful vision : in the centre of a luminous cloud he saw the face of a Man, radiant with love. At first he thought it was Buddha or Krishna, or some other divinity, and he was about to prostrate himself in worship. Just then, to his great astonishment, he heard these words in Hindu- stani : Tu mujhe kyun satata hat ? Dekh main ne tere liye apui jan salib -par di (" Why do you persecute Me ? Remember that I gave My life for you upon the Cross"). Utterly at a loss, he was speechless with astonishment. Then he noticed the scars of Jesus of Nazareth, whom until that moment he had regarded merely as a great man who had lived and died long ago in Palestine, the same Jesus whom he had so passionately hated a few days before. And this Jesus showed no traces of anger in His face, although Sundar had burnt His holy Book, but He was all gentleness and love. Then the thought came to him : "Jesus Christ is not dead ; He is alive, and this is He Himself " ; and he fell at His feet and worshipped Him. In an instant he felt that his whole being was completely changed ; Christ flooded his nature with Divine life ; peace and joy filled his soul, and ** brought heaven into his heart." When Sundar Singh rose from his knees Christ had disappeared, but the wonderful peace remained from that moment, and it has never left him since. He said afterwards : " Neither in Hindustani, my mother- tongue, nor in English, can I describe the bliss of that hour."

He believed that a message that was for all mankind, and had universal significance:
If the Divine spark in the soul cannot be destroyed, then we need despair of no sinner… Since God created men to have fellowship with Himself, they cannot for ever be separated from Him… After long wandering, and by devious paths, sinful man will at last return to Him in whose Image he was created; for this is his final destiny.
He dedicated his life to a Sadhu-style mission particularly within North India, and the Himalayan region of Tibet and Nepal. He went wider afield to South India, Ceylon, Burma, Malaya, Singapore, Japan and China .

He disappeared in the Himalayas in 1929 (possibly in Tibet) and his body was never found. He remains a fine example of indigenous Christian leadership, modelling a non-Western form of mission, the Sadhu wandering the dusty footpaths, which had a far reaching impact.

He once said (on a mission trip to the West):

'We Indians do not want a doctrine, mot even a religious doctrine, we have enough and more than enough of that kind of thing; we are tired of doctrines. We need the Living Christ. India wants people who will not only preach and teach, but workers whose whole life and temper is a revelation of Jesus Christ'

Saturday, 26 March 2011

The Thresher's Labour

My picture is based on Van Gogh's 'The Thresher' (after Millet) painted in Saint-Rémy in 1889. A copy of a copy which loses something in the 'translation', My picture looks more like the Grim Reaper than a farmyard thresher. But maybe that ambiguity contains a glimmer of truth...

It is a strongly biblical image, suggesting the last days and the final judgement - the seperation of Wheat and Tares - of good and evil. It becomes a metaphor for the inevitablity of judgement and punishment of wickedness.

The Thresher's Labour a poem by Stephen Duck (1730) interestingly he later became a Rector in Byfleet so maybe he is not just describing an everyday farmyard scene, but something bigger, grander and more ultimate....
lines 27-41 of the poem are quoted below (the only ones I could find online):

So dry the Corn was carried from the Field,

So easily 'twill Thresh, so well 'twill Yield;

Sure large Day's Work I well may hope for now;

Come, strip, and try, let's see what you can do.

Divested of our Cloaths, with Flail in Hand,

At a just Distance, Front to Front we stand;

At first the Threshall's gently swung, to prove,

Whether with just Exactness it will move:

That once secure, more quick we whirl them round,

From the strong Planks our Crab-Tree Staves rebound,

And echoing Barns return the rattling Sound.

Now in the Air our knotty Weapons fly;

And now with equal Force descend from high:

Down one, one up, so well they keep the Time,

The Cyclops Hammers could not truer chime...

Stephen Duck was apparently a vicar in Knaphill who came to a tragic end - drowned himslef in a canal. Jonathan Swift wrote a satirical verse -a quibbl - about him On Stephen Duck, the Thresher, and Favourite Poet. A Quibbl

Friday, 25 March 2011

Random thoughts

A bit of random fun on Facebook got me thinking .....
The message below - when I did it - produced the result above
1. Go to Wikipedia and hit random. The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band. 2 - Go to quotationspage.com and hit random. The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album. 3 - Go to Flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”. Third picture no matter what it is, will be your album cover. 4 - Use Photoshop or similar (picnik.com is a free online photo editor) to put it all together. 5 - Post it with this text in the "caption" and TAG the friends you want to join in

As someone suggested mine looks like a real album cover. The one I saw on another friends status looked even more convincing ....
A further facebook friend has pointed out 2 websites that generate random covers: album cover generator and fake album cover with both a twitter following and a facebook group.

That got me thinking - how much of what we attribute meaning to is actually random. Meaning making is retrospective. we see patterns and make connections and attribute meaning to what may be otherwise random events. And even if that is so then so what...

It reminded me of something else I read about random tourism. Go to a city / town and using a pack of cards, draw a card - Hearts go straight, Clubs left, Diamond right, Spades back. And walk the number of blocks on the card. Just follow the cards for the day and see what happens.... talk to people, visit places en route....

Maybe we need more 'random' in our lives.... not everything planned ..... more 'wandering for the love of God'......

Back to my random quote:

"Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it."

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Thursday, 24 March 2011

What think ye of Christ?

The painting: 'an imitation of Christ' was an attempt at a more iconic style - similar to Madonna and child - which was actually painted later. Oil pastels in an A6 sketch book.
Jesus in my picture looks a little cross-eyed to me. But at least he is not blue-eyed blonde-haired.
I do think everyone needs an opinion of Jesus. At some point we all need to look into those eyes as it were and work out what he was all about. What he represented. What he stood for.
Those eyes become a mirror of our own soul......

The poem by John Newton asks the same fundamental question: What think ye of Christ ? With his own conclusions at the end.......

What think you of Christ? is the test
To try both your state and your scheme;
You cannot be right in the rest,
Unless you think rightly of him.
As Jesus appears in your view,
As he is beloved or not;
So God is disposed to you,
And mercy or wrath are your lot.

Some take him a creature to be,
A man, or an angel at most;
Sure these have not feelings like me,
Nor know themselves wretched and lost:
So guilty, so helpless, am I,
I durst not confide in his blood,
Nor on his protection rely,
Unless I were sure he is God.

Some call him a Saviour, in word,
But mix their own works with his plan;
And hope he his help will afford,
When they have done all that they can:
If doings prove rather too light
(A little, they own, they may fail)
They purpose to make up full weight,
By casting his name in the scale.

Some style him the pearl of great price,
And say he's the fountain of joys;
Yet feed upon folly and vice,
And cleave to the world and its toys:
Like Judas, the Saviour they kiss,
And, while they salute him, betray;
Ah! what will profession like this
Avail in his terrible day?

If asked what of Jesus I think?
Though still my best thoughts are but poor;
I say, he's my meat and my drink,
My life, and my strength, and my store,
My Shepherd, my Husband, my Friend,
My Saviour from sin and from thrall;
My hope from beginning to end,
My Portion, my Lord, and my All.

John Newton

Wednesday, 23 March 2011

Hope is the thing with feathers

Another painting of a Nuthatch (based on one I found on the internet) and a poem 'Hope is the thing with feathers' by Emily Dickinson. It is part of a longer poem called 'Life'

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

Tuesday, 22 March 2011

"I am the Reaper"

The painting is based on one by Van Gogh of a Reaper with Sickle (after Millet). I did a painting of one of Van Gogh's sowers earlier: 'sowing seed: planting hope' The sower and the reeper complement each other:
Even now the reaper draws his wages, even now he harvests the crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. John 4:36
The poem 'I am the Reaper' is by William Earnest Henley I think they go together rather well

I am the Reaper.

All things with heedful hook

Silent I gather.

Pale roses touched with the spring,

Tall corn in summer,

Fruits rich with autumn, and frail winter blossoms—

Reaping, still reaping—

All things with heedful hook

Timely I gather.

I am the Sower.

All the unbodied life

Runs through my seed-sheet.

Atom with atom wed,

Each quickening the other,

Fall through my hands, ever changing, still changeless.

Ceaselessly sowing,

Life, incorruptible life,

Flows from my seed-sheet.

Maker and breaker,

I am the ebb and the flood,

Here and Hereafter,

Sped through the tangle and coil

Of infinite nature,

Viewless and soundless I fashion all being.

Taker and giver,

I am the womb and the grave,

The Now and the Ever

Sunday, 20 March 2011

'Out with the Angels' - Friday night in Woking

The painting was inspired by the concept of Street Angels
(based on a pic I found on the web)

This was my first time as a street angel - 11 of us on duty on Friday night. We gathered at 9:30pm for a 10 to 4 shift. Organised in pairs, two hours on and one hour off. The break time is spent in the council office staff room, which is also used by police and others.

I was with Margaret. It was a cold night but not very busy. We walked the streets to get an idea of the patch. Saying hello to one and all. Striking up conversations where wanted. Especially to people on their own. A Welsh girl. Man with dreadlocks who wanted to become an angel himself. A Russian bouncer outside Yates. The manager of a nightclub, RSVP. Plus the police – two teams the local community police and the quick response from Guildford, plus lots of taxi drivers, mainly Pakistani.

One team stayed with a very drunk 14 year old, under the station canopy, until her grateful mother came to take her home. We met a girl, Cloe, on her own sitting on the pavement outside a pub. Her 'ex' was inside and wanted nothing to do with her. We stayed with her while she vomited up the evening’s drink, gave her water and another team escorted her to the bus to make sure she was OK getting to a friend’s house.

A brother and sister were vehemently fighting in the streets, with a friend trying to separate them. Lots of things were said they would later regret. And it was at times violent. A shop window was nearly broken. In the end just being there, hanging around persistently and trying to talk to them, they eventually stopped. The sister was put in a taxi home and the police took details. They were known but not wanted. It ended all very amicably with both men expressing appreciation and exchanging hugs with the angels.

3 young girls who looked around 14/15 kept appearing, asking for lollipops. We did see one angel - a young woman off to a club in white body suit, dancing tutu and wings. She looked COLD…. And there was a jovial, old busker, who improvised a song about lollipops. A good laugh had by all ….

A taxi driver spoke to us of some of the abuse he had suffered at the hands of drunken customers. One man had ripped his coat and tried to strangle him. The 3 girls tried to cadge a lift off him, ‘mum will pay at the end’ they suggested. He refused "Mother’s never pay”, he explained, “mothers are always tucked up asleep in bed and never pay"

A night worker waiting for her lift, just grateful to be asked if she was alright.

We came across one couple arguing. So difficult to tell if the violence is going to escalate. And they didn’t really want any interference, so we moved on…

At the end of the night, we met Ted, a young man in a suit, who had had a £1800 bike stolen the week before, so he was off home, a 4 mile walk along the canal at 3am. We chatted and gave him a lollipop… He shouted back as he was walking off; “Amazing, the lollipop really does it for me, it really f***ing does!”

Woking seems to appreciate the angels on the streets. They just want them there on busier Saturday nights as well…….

Friday, 18 March 2011

University of Twitter - political Philosophy by Alain de Botton

Clever stuff from Alain de Botton via twitter so I combined them with 'avatar' pics mainly from Goodreads

alaindebotton Alain de Botton The University of Twitter: a short course in Political Philosophy in 7 parts:

Plato 1: Plato: We should be ruled not by leaders chosen by a majority, but by those who are most intelligent.

2. St Augustine: We should not try to build paradise on earth. Aim for tolerable government, true government only possible in the next life.

Niccolò Machiavelli 3. Machiavelli: Politician must choose between serving the interests of country and theinterests of Christian morality. Can't have both.

4. Hobbes: Rulers not appointed by God, but by people and if they can't guarantee their security, they can be legitimately kicked out.

Adam Smith 5. Smith: The market cannot alone create a moral community. Civil society must nudge capitalists to be good through emulation and honours.

Karl Marx 6. Karl Marx: The 'profit' of a capitalist is in essence theft, the stolen life and labour of the proletariat.

John Stuart Mill 7. J.S. Mill: Governments should not tell people how to live, they should give them the preconditions to make their own choices.

Monday, 14 March 2011

The Great Wave'

Hokusai's The Great Wave, a woodblock print (c 1830) was part of a series of 'Thirty-six views of Mount Fuji' (Fugaku sanjūrokkei). It was featured in Neil McGregor's 'A History of the World in 100 Objects'

The Great Wave became a symbol of the changing times, as Japan opened up to the West after a policy of splendid isolation. This was just before Admiral Perry and his US gunships enforced trade with the West in the 1850s.

The Great Wave dwarfs Mount Fuji, the symbol of Japan, and is about to engulf the 3 fishing boats and their tiny crew. It represents the inevitable onslaught of modernity. McGrregor suggests:
It also, I think, shows a peculiar Japanese ambivalence. As a viewer, you have no place to stand, no footing. You too must be in a boat, under the Great Wave, and in danger. The dangerous sea over which European things and ideas travelled has, however, been drawn with profound ambiguity'

I was inspired to do an impressionistic version as a result of the 'Sendai Earthquake' in Japan and the consequent Tsunami. Seeing video/ movies of the onslaught of that great wave, sweeping away everything in its path cars, houses, ships, planes, trees, people - brought to mind this picture. What struck me as I was drawing was a macabre thought about the similarity between the wave and a rack of spare ribs! And how the people in the boat looked so small and ant-like.

Inevitably, I'm not the only one to have made the connection between the picture and recent events, as this cartoon suggests:

One newspaper article suggested that the Tsunami was humbling for all who think mankind is in charge. What fools we are to think we can tame the wrath of nature Robert Hardman "it has served as a brutal lesson that, in the scheme of things, homo sapiens is not so sapiens after all. We are just ants with cars"

Sunday, 13 March 2011

Abdul Masih - Henry Martyn's convert

I decided to do a drawing of Abdul Masih, based on an Oil Painting we have in the office. It is a picture that has fascinated me for a while. I wanted to know more about him. I had found a couple of pages on a book some time ago, which I had photoed and now have typed up. But I cannot remember the title, which is most unhelpful. Still it tells something of his story. He is remembered on 4th March . . . . .

Abdul Masih’s name was until his baptism Sheik Salih. As that implies he was a Mohmmedan, and was in fact the first member of that faith to be converted by the Anglican Church in India and ordained to the Anglican Ministry

He was born into an orthodox and respectable family in Delhi about the 1765 and was brought up with a good knowledge of Persian and Arabic. As a young man he had a somewhat varied career until the time when he was staying with his father at Kanpur and happened to hear Henry Martyn preach. He was deeply impressed. Through copying Persian manuscripts for Martyn, and when Martyn had finished his Persian translations of the N/T. it was given to him to bind. Whilst doing this he read the book carefully and became convinced of the truth of Christianity. However he did not open his heart to Martin at once, but waited till Martyn was about to leave for Calcutta in the autumn of 1810

Martyn was not fully convinced that Sheik Salih was ready for baptism, se he took him to Calcutta and, when he himself sailed out for Persia early in 1811, left him in the care of David Brown who was then in charge of the Old Mission Church. The enquirer was baptised in that church on Pentecost Sunday 1811 with the Christian name of Abdul Masih, servant of Christ. He lived for some time longer in Calcutta and at Shinsurah, working as a preacher and catechist, showing not only his considerable ability but also a wonderful humility and zeal in the face of much opposition and persecution.

When Daniel Corries was posted to Agra as Chaplain at the end of 1812, he told Abdul Masih with him as catechist in the pay of C.M.S. Their joint ministry at Agra was so greatly blessed, both among the Christians of all races and in preaching to non-Christians, that when Corrie left for England in 1814 he left him in charge of the congregation jointly with an Anglo-Indian catechist. Abdul Masih received Lutheran orders at Calcutta in 1820. Four years later Bishop Heber was so impressed by his work at Agra that he brought him to Calcutta and gave him Episcopal ordination in St John’s Church in November 30, 1825. Though he was under 60 years of age he health was already failing and he died at Lucknow on March 4, 1827

The report of the Calcutta C.M.S committee for 1827 includes a ling and laudatory notice of his work including the following words, “He had laboured in the service of the CMS for upward of 14 years, during the whole of which period he had uniformly adorned the doctrine of God our Saviour, and greatly endeared himself to Christians of all classes in society. By patience and meekness under persecution and reproaches for Christ’s sake, and by persevering endeavour to return good for evil, even his enemies had become at peace with him”

We thank God for Abdul Masih’s witness to his Master both by his work and he Christian character. Let us pray that all who bear the name of Christ in our day may follow his example.

You can read more in an article which mentions him by Eugene Stock
and a downloadable pdf by Graham Kings called Abdul Masih: Icon of Indian Indigeneity

Saturday, 12 March 2011

consider the birds of the air

Consider the birds of the air (Matthew 6:25-33) I came across these words as I was surfing the net as part of a sermon someone had preached on this text. I have simply copied them in a non-prose format. I think they speak quite poetically The picture is another of my Oil pastel drawings.

"Look at the birds of the air;

they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns,

and yet your heavenly Father feeds them….

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow;

they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you,

even Solomon in all his glory

was not clothed like one of these.”

“Look at the birds of the air,” he says.

Playful, free birds, full of song, quick to move,

colourful cardinals and goldfinches.

“Consider the lilies of the field, clothed in glory,” he says.

Fresh, vibrant lilies, waving on slender stems

as the breeze moves among them.

Like the birds of the air,

like the lilies of the field,

you are created and loved by God.

Like the birds of the air,

like the lilies of the field,

you are provided for.

Let go of the anxiousness,

let go of fearful grasping,

let go and breathe.

God knows your deepest needs.

(Diane Blanchard)

Now that's what John Stott calls 'Orna-theology'

Friday, 11 March 2011

'Dusk to Dusk' - Afghan poems

The painting is inspired by one I found on the internet of an old Afghan man.

I originally came across the poems in a booklet produced in Coventry by Afghan Refugees called 'Dusk to Dusk'. These are Pushtoon poems - 'By blood...' by Amad Shah Durrani (1747-73) and 'The knowing man' by Khushal Khan Khattak (1613-90) There is a timelessness about both the picture of the old man and the poems ....


Sta pa lara ke biley zalmey sarona

Kaharo da dunya malkona der shi

Zama her na shi da sta khokaley baghona

Da Delhi takht herawom chi rapa yad shi

Da khpal khukaley pakhtoonkhwa da ghra sarona

Da raqeeb da jhwand mathah ba tar pa tar kram

Chi pa thoro pakhtana ka guzarona

Ka thamam dunya yaw khwata bal khwa ye

Zama khwah de sta khalee tash dagarona

Ahmad sha ba sta qader Kher na ka

Ka wana si da thamam jahan malkona

By blood, we are immersed in love of you.
The youth lose their heads for your sake.
I come to you and my heart finds rest.
Away from you, grief clings to my heart like a snake.
I forget the throne of Delhi
when I remember the mountain tops of my Afghan land.
If I must choose between the world and you,
I shall not hesitate to claim your barren deserts as my own.


The knowing man knows
About himself
From inward looking comes
The knowledge of the Most Holy

Ignore the person
Reciting verses from the Qu'ran,
But lacking in a fearing heart
And fellow feeling.

Thursday, 10 March 2011

i am a little church

The painting was done on holiday in Austria in summer 2010, inspired by one I saw by Reinhold Stecher in a small booklet called 'Der Rosenkranz, ein kleines Plaedoyer'

The poem i am a little church is by e e cummings. I thnk they go together rather well

i am a little church(no great cathedral)

far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities

—i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,

i am not sorry when sun and rain make april

my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;

my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving

(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children

whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness

around me surges a miracle of unceasing

birth and glory and death and resurrection:

over my sleeping self float flaming symbols

of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains

i am a little church(far from the frantic

world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature

—i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;

i am not sorry when silence becomes singing

winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to

merciful Him Whose only now is forever:

standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence

(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)

"Poem 77" from 95 Poems (1958), p. 749

Tuesday, 1 March 2011

An Impression of Madonna and Child

I was inspired to draw an 'impressionist Icon' whist at Hillfield Friary in Dorset.
It is based on a print they had on sale in the shop.

It was also inspired by the sacred:space evening in Woking when Anton Ponamarev from faith2share came and spoke on Windows on Eternity: Orthodox spirituality of Icons
Icons are used by Orthodox churches around the world, with c 25o-300 million believers. That makes them probably the most common Christian art form. They are not idols that are worshipped, but are used as a means of 'veneration' - to focus the mind on the subject of the icon. A window on heaven.

Perhaps the most famous icon is the Vladimir Madonna and child
which acts as a sort of prototype for other icons .

interesting how the Christ child always looks like a 'little man'

in our sacred:space, we discussed about what is the difference between an Icon and a painting and looked at various examples. Sometimes it is unclear. But Icons are genearlly two dimentional, flat, no shadow.

There are conventions in painting an icon none of which I followed. My picture is more impressionistic in style so maybe it is neither a painting nor an icon. But it was insprired by faith....

It seems appropriate to end with an orthodox version of the Magnificat, the Song of Mary (in English) as it anticipates the 'upside-down Kingdom'

The Song of Mary English (Eastern Orthodox Divine Service):

My soul magnifies the Lord,

and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour;

For he has regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden.

For behold, from this day all generations will call me blessed;

For the mighty one has done great things to me, and holy is his name.

And his mercy is on those who fear him from generation to generation.

He has shown strength with his arm;

He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts;

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has exalted the holy;

He has filled the hungry with good things,

and the rich he has sent empty away.

He has helped his servant Israel,

in remembrance of his mercy,

as he spoke to our fathers,

to Abraham and to his seed forever.