Contains Flashing Images by Lily Hamourtziadou

The narrative of terror is 

the narrative 

of justifications, 

of explanations, 

of accusations. 

It is the narrative of 

the names and faces 

of the innocent. 

It is the narrative 

of the helpless and the poor, 

the millions of refugees, 

the bodies found and picked up 

from the streets of Baghdad, 

buried in mass graves, 

unidentified, unclaimed. 

We are the lucky ones, 

who witness the horror from afar, 

our TV screens, 

our newspapers, 

our computer monitors. 

We can watch in shock and awe, 

as it all unfolds, 

less and less frequently now, 

safe from the missiles, 

safe from the car bombs, 

the only danger 

those flashing images 

hurting our eyes. 

That’s why those reports come with a warning.

Every Grain of Sand by Bob Dylan

In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed 
There's a dyin' voice within me reaching out somewhere, 
Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.

Don't have the inclination to look back on any mistake, 
Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break. 
In the fury of the moment I can see the Master's hand 
In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand.

Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear, 
Like criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer. 
The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way 
To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay. 

I gaze into the doorway of temptation's angry flame 
And every time I pass that way I always hear my name. 
Then onward in my journey I come to understand 
That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.

I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night 
In the violence of a summer's dream, in the chill of a wintry light, 
In the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space, 
In the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.

I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea 
Sometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me. 
I am hanging in the balance of a perfect finished plan 
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.

Copyright © 1981 Special Rider Music

:

Saint Peter

Malcolm Guite

Impulsive master of misunderstanding
You comfort me with all your big mistakes;
Jumping the ship before you make the landing,
Placing the bet before you know the stakes.

I love the way you step out without knowing,
The way you sometimes speak before you think,
The way your broken faith is always growing,
The way he holds you even when you sink.

Born to a world that always tried to shame you,
Your shaky ego vulnerable to shame,
I love the way that Jesus chose to name you,
Before you knew how to deserve that name.

And in the end your Savior let you prove
That each denial is undone by love.

A Prayer in Brokenness

O God,

I cannot undo the past,

or make it never have happened!

– neither can You. There are some things

that are not possible even for You

– but not many!

I ask You,

humbly,

and from the bottom of my heart:

Please, God,

would You write straight

with my crooked lines?

Out of the serious mistakes of my life

will You make something beautiful for You?

Teach me to live at peace with You,

to make peace with others

and even with myself.

Give me fresh vision. Let me

experience Your love so deeply

that I am free to

face the future with a steady eye,

forgiven,

and strong in hope.

Celtic Daily Prayer 

The Cure

Katharine Harer

baseball is a good antidote for death

where else do we mutter belief scream

hope over green grass bathed

in light where else do we coach the best

out of one another

it's all right baby

you can do it

settle down guy

you'll be okay just hang in there

we need you buddy

we need a spark

be the ignitor man

our whispered pleas combine over rows

of seats and peanut calls and pour into the ears

of our boys fixing them

with our best hope the best we have to give

nowhere else do we do this together

reverently from some untapped place

in our chests saved for our children

and our lovers we thought we'd used it up

but listen to us croon making our voices

carry just the right mixture

of love and demand

our throats are sore

the peanut shells under our feet flattened

from jumping up and sinking down again

our heats extended

pumping belief

into this one afternoon

you can do it

you can do it for us

do it now come on

do it now

The Greeter

Robert N. Watson

He’s not the Reaper, but he does stop by

To say, to everything that’s ever lived, “Nice try.”

Adam's Complaint

Denise Levertov

Some people, 

no matter what you give them,

still want the moon.

The bread, 

the salt, 

white meat and dark,

still hungry.

The marriage bed 

and the cradle,

still empty arms.

You give them land, 

their own earth under their feet,

still they take to the roads

And water: dig them the deepest well, 

still it’s not deep enough

to drink the moon from. 

The Candidate

Mt 15:22-24 / Mt 19:13-14 / Luke 15:1-2 

They did their best

to keep the marginals

away

from the Candidate.

The children.

The sick.

The possessed.

 For a moment

they let down

their guard,

 and find Him

dining with sinners.

And the Twelve

frustrated

with Him

wonder,

"How is this guy 

ever gonna be 

our Messiah?"

Arsonist

Luke 12:49-53 

Oh,

how the Arsonist

thought He

was gonna

cause a revolution.

All will burn

then turn

learn

and be reborn.

Alas,

His first attempt

was a fizzle.

And before 

going on the lam,

He sent His Spirit

down to set off

 a global warming.

And from His hideout,

only the Arsonist

appreciates the sad irony.

 His followers

hearing His story

in quiet,

air conditioned comfort. 

Good morning - Midnight!

Emily Dickinson

Good morning—Midnight!

I'm coming home,

Day—got tired of me—

How could I—of him?

Sunshine was a sweet place—

I liked to stay—

But Morn—didn't want me—now—

So good night—Day!

I can look—can’t I—

When the East is Red?

The Hills—have a way—then—

That puts the Heart—abroad—

You are not so fair—Midnight—

I chose—Day—

But—please take a little Girl—

He turned away!

Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam trans. Edward Henry Whinfield 1883

375

In a lone waste I saw a debauchee,  

He had no home, no faith, no heresy,  

No God, no truth, no law, no certitude;  

Where in this world is man so bold as he? 

Testimony

Stephen Dunn (2012)

The Lord woke me in the middle of the night,

and there stood Jesus with a huge tray,

and the tray was heaped with cookies,

and He said, Stephen, have a cookie,

and that's when I knew for sure the Lord

is the real deal, the Man of all men,

because at that very moment

I was thinking of cookies, Vanilla Wafers

to be exact, and there were two

Vanilla Wafers in among the chocolate

chips and the lemon ices, and one

had a big S on it, and I knew it was for me,

and Jesus took it off the tray and put it

in my mouth, as if He were giving me

communication, or whatever they call it.

Then He said, Have another,

and I tell you I thought a long time before I

refused, because I knew it was a test

to see if I was a Christian, which means

a man like Christ, not a big ole hog.

Hands-off Policy

Robert Capon

 God still insists on running the world

 without running it at all. 

The question is put loud and clear: 

Why in God’s Name won’t You show up? 

And the response comes back 

as supremely unsatisfying as ever. 

To show up would be

 to come in your name, 

not Mine. 

No show, 

therefore. 

And, of course, 

no answer.

Corporate

Numbers 20:1-13/ Matthew 16:13-23 / Isaiah 55:8-9

The underlings protested

to Moses

about their circumstances.

Specifically,

the lack of food

and drink.

So, Moses stepped out

to talk it over with 

his Boss,

and returned

with His instructions.

And as Moses came back

to the assembly,

he became increasingly

fed up about

the situation.

He got on his podium,

he raised his voice,

and said,

"You want water!

HERE'S YOUR WATER!"

The ungrateful 

slurped it up

without a thank you.

And 

Moses received 

a memo from Corporate

stating his project

was suspended

indefinitely. 

II

The Boss

saw that 

Peter had 

management potential

and gave him the

keys to the Kingdom

and the powers of

loosening

and binding.

And then,

Jesus gave

the executive summary

of how it was all

going to go down,

complete with 

murder and

resurrection.

After hearing this,

the newly minted executive

said the words

a manager should never verbalize,

“Have you really thought this through?”

So after hearing this,

Corporate does

what Corporate does,

and shamed him

in front of his peers

for not being in favor 

of the Plan.

Daydream #852

Luke 12:13-21

Sometimes

I think I could

write

a best selling

self-help book.

It would be an

old-fashioned 

budget spreadsheet

with the categories

already filled in:

Love

Faith

Friends

Health

Generosity

Justice

Forgiveness

Change

Hope

And written 

to the

right

of each item is:

How much can I budget of this today?

Working title: Life Budget

But that can change 

if you come up with 

a big enough advance

and an endorsement

from Joel Osteen.

Loaves and Fishes

 David Whyte

This is not

the age of information.

This is not

the age of information.

Forget the news,

and the radio,

and the blurred screen.

This is the time

of loaves 

and fishes.

People are hungry

and one good word is bread

for a thousand.

Idiot Psalm 12

Scott Cairns

A psalm of Isaak, amid uncommon darkness

O Being both far distant and most near,
             O Lover embracing all unlovable, O Tender
             Tether binding us together, and binding, yea
             and tenderly, Your Person to ourselves,

Being both beyond our ken, and kindred, One
             whose dire energies invest such clay as ours
             with patent animation, O Secret One secreting
             life anew into our every tissue moribund,
             afresh unto our stale and stalling craft,

grant in this obscurity a little light.

help me.....

Mark 10:13-15

in trouble

in peace

in pain

in health

in the noise

in silence

in doubt

in faith

Father, 

help me

your child. 

Jerusalem

Yehuda Amichai (1959)

On a roof in the Old City

Laundry hanging in the late afternoon sunlight:

The white sheet of a woman who is my enemy,

The towel of a man who is my enemy,

To wipe off the sweat of his brow

In the sky of the Old City

A kite.

At the other end of the string,

A child

I can’t see

because of the wall.

We have put up many flags

They have put up many flags

To make us think that they’re happy

To make them think that we’re happy.

An Arab Shepherd

Yehuda Amichai (1980)

An Arab shepherd is searching for his goat on Mount Zion

And on the opposite mountain I am searching.

For my little boy

An Arab shepherd and a Jewish father

Both in their temporary failure…

Afterwards we found them among the bushes

And our voices came back inside us, laughing and crying

Searching for a goat or a son

Has always been the beginning

of a new religion in these mountains.

Love Covers a Multitude of Sins

Soren Kierkegaard

John 8:1-11 / 1 Peter 4:8

The scribes and Pharisees

soon discovered her guilt,

which was indeed easy

since her sin was open.

They also discovered

a new sin,

one of which 

they made themselves guilty,

when they artfully laid snares 

for the Lord.

But Jesus bowed down

and wrote with His finger

upon the ground.

Why,

did He bow down?

I wonder.

Why, 

did he write  

with His finger

upon the ground?

I wonder.

Did He sit there

like a judge

who listens attentively

to the story of the accusers

and then

jots down the principal points

so he may not forget them,

and may judge strictly.

Was the woman's guilt 

the only thing 

noted by the Lord?

Or

did He write it down

in order to erase it

and forget it?

There stood the sinner,

surrounded perhaps by

those more guilty,

who loudly accused her.

But Love bowed down

and did not hear 

the accusation,

which passed over His head

into the air.

He wrote with His finger

in order to blot out

what He himself knew.

For sin discovers 

a multitude of sins

but love covers

the multitude of sins.

For by one word

from the Master

the Pharisees and the scribes

were struck dumb.

There was no longer 

an accuser.

No one who condemned her.

But Jesus said to her,

"Neither do I condemn you,

go and sin no more."

For the punishment of sins

breeds new sins

but love covers

a multitude of sins.

The Greatest Question

Matthew 22:34-40 / Mark 12:28-34 / Luke 10:25-37 / 

John 21:15-17

In the Synoptics,

the faithful ask

Jesus:

"What are the greatest commands

God has given?"

And in a rare instance,

He responds with a direct answer:

"Love God with all your being

and love neighbor as yourself."

In Matthew, 

He concludes by saying:

"The Law and 

the words of the Prophets

all hang on this."

In Mark,

the questioner

whole-heartedly

agrees with Him

and Jesus states

he is not far

from the Kingdom of God.

In Luke,

the lawyer

follows up

with a question about 

the meaning of neighbor.

Jesus responds with

a story we all know.

But in John,

after the Cross

and

after the Tomb,

the tables are turned.

It is Christ asking 

the question repeatedly.

Calling you by name 

and asking

the greatest question:

"Do you love Me?"

God goes subprime

I always thought Church of the Morally Bankrupt God

would be a great name for a payday loan shop.

Rule Number One

I

Genesis 18:16-33

God waited for Abraham

to finish with

his pleading for Sodom.

And as He heard

his repeated requests,

He wished mortals

knew the 

number one rule of the gods:

A god got to do

what a god got to do.

II

Matthew 8:18-22

God waited for the scribes

and other disciples

to finish with

their excuses.

And as He heard

their explanations,

He wished mortals

knew the 

number one rule of the gods:

A god got to do

what a god got to do.

Independence Day Manifesto

The stakes are too great-
an America gone mad with materialism, 
a police-state America, 
a sexless and soulless America 
prepared to battle the world 
in defense of a false image of its authority. 

Not the wild and beautiful America
of the comrades of Walt Whitman, 
not the historic America 
of William Blake and Henry David Thoreau 
where the spiritual independence of each individual was an America, 
a universe, 
more huge and awesome than 
all the abstract bureaucracies and authoritative officialdoms 
of the world combined.

Only those who have entered the world of spirit 
know what a vast laugh there is 
in the illusory appearance of worldly authority. 
And all men at one time or other enter that Spirit, 
whether in life or death.

How many hypocrites are there in America? 
How many trembling lambs, fearful of discovery? 
What authority have we set up over ourselves, 
that we are not as we are? 
Who shall prohibit an art from being published to the world? 
What conspirators have power to determine our mode of consciousness, 
our sexual enjoyments, our different labors and our loves? 
What fiends determine our wars?

When will we discover an America
that will not deny its own God? 
Who takes up 
arms, money, police, and a million hands 
to murder the consciousness of God? 

Who spits in the beautiful face of poetry 
which sings of the glory of God 
and weeps in the dust of the world?

Alan Ginsberg, 2000

Amber Alert

Luke 2:41-51 / Psalm 44:23-24

Sometimes the Church

Sometimes the World

are like the Psalmist.

When some tragedy occurs

they ask the Other,

"Where were You?"

And when we discern

the response

 is the same 

as what

Mary and Joseph heard,

“I AM where I AM 

supposed to be.” 

So,

the quandary arises: 

Do we

like Mary place

the answer in our hearts

or silently wonder 

as Joseph:

“What is Your

Father’s business?”

The Impossible Takes a Little Longer

Matthew 17:17-20

We hear the words,

and wonder

if Jesus is

exaggerating

to make His point.

And afterwards

we browse

the bulletin board

of the world

and read of 

a saint

who 

makes us

wonder

if we have

any faith

at all.

(h/t Naked Pastor)

The Other Guy

Luke 7:36-50

On the TV

Jesus said to Peter,

"I've come to bring you new life."

And Peter replied,

"Who says I need one?"

And we 

who drag

our baggage

around

each day, 

hear the gospel warning:

"forgiven little

loves little"

and think 

He is talking 

to someone else.

867-5309

The President said,

“All we are doing

is making a log  

of your 

phone calls.”

And all of us 

terrorists

breathed

 a sigh

of relief.

We’re glad 

our cover

hasn't been blown,

as we

 gossip 

about some poor soul.

Talk to our mistresses

and tell the beloved

you have to

 work late tonight.

Get a hot stock tip

from your brother-in-law

at Goldmans.

Thank God

that

our freedoms

and privacy

are not being harmed.

While the 

recording angels

scribble frantically 

in the 

Book of Life.

Christian President

"I wish we had a Christian President,"

she said.

"Yes," I replied.

"Imagine weapons 

turned into

ploughshares.

Our debts

cancelled

for a fresh start.

The blind 

lame and

sick

won't worry 

about

pre-existing conditions.

And a new beginning

of the last 

becoming

 first."

"No, no, no," she said.

"All I meant,

 he would go to church every 

Sunday."

Kill the Buddha

The Buddhists have a saying:

“If the Buddha approaches you

on the road,

Kill him.

Because you are seeing the

Buddha

you have made

in your own image.”

When the Christ

approaches us 

on the road,

we have three

options.

We can run away

as the disciples

in the garden.

We can maim

and waylay

Him on the 

side of the road,

as in the traveler story

He told.

Or we can

discern who He is,

stop,

leave

the path we’re on,

and

Follow Him.

The First Pentecost

Luke 3:21-22 / Mark 1:9-12 / Gal 5:16

On this spring Sabbath,

we wear the red,

feel the breeze,

and imagine 

the Spirit

blowing through

the house

and 

setting us afire

as it happened

to the followers

in Jerusalem.

But didn't the 

first Pentecost 

 occur,

when

the Advocate

 descended 

on a

carpenter's son

to reveal

what it means

to walk 

in the

Spirit?

MOTHER PICKING PRODUCE

Richard Blanco

She scratches the oranges then smells the peel,

presses an avocado just enough to judge its ripeness,

polishes the Macintoshes searching for bruises.

She selects with hands that have thickened, fingers

that have swollen with history around the white gold

of a wedding ring she now wears as a widow.

Unlike the archived photos of young, slender digits

captive around black and white orange blossoms,

her spotted hands now reaching into the colors.

I see all the folklore of her childhood, the fields,

the fruit she once picked from the very tree,

the wiry roots she pulled out of the very ground.

And now, among the collapsed boxes of yucca,

through crumbling pyramids of golden mangos,

she moves with the same instinct and skill.

This is how she survives death and her son,

on these humble duties that will never change,

on those habits of living which keep a life a life.

She holds up red grapes to ask me what I think,

and what I think is this, a new poem about her--

the grapes look like dusty rubies in her hands,

what I say is this: they look sweet, very sweet.

Eyes Wide Shut

John 14:7-9 / Mt 25:42-44

How could he miss it?

The miracles.

The teachings.

The answers He gave.

How could he not recognize

who was in his midst?

As we drive by the homeless.

Criticize the poor.

Fill our prisons to excess.

A Short Meditation on Giving

Mt 6:1-4 / Luke 21:1-4

I understand

the motive

of keeping

the left hand

in the dark

of what the

right hand is doing.

All things done

for the glory of God

and all that good

Sunday School stuff.

But there is 

one more point

to be made 

of what happens

if silence is broken

on one's charity.

Half the assholes 

in the world 

will scream,

"Why did you give it to them?"

And the rest 

will whine

"Why didn't you give it to me?"

Christian Zen

“All the way to heaven is heaven, 

because Jesus said, "I am the way.” 

―

 St. Catherine of Siena

A Tough Crowd

Sometimes he thought,

I'm like an aging rock star,

where the fans don't want

to hear my latest songs.

"Just give us the hits,”

they scream.

As he approaches the assembly,

he decides

on what his Sabbath 

playlist is.

He begins,

striking a chord to

a faithful 

that learned by heart 

the Sunday School equation

of Easter

divided by Christmas

yields Life Eternal.