8.25.2013
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
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?"
8.18.2013
Arsonist
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?
8.11.2013
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
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.
8.04.2013
Daydream #852
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.
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.
7.28.2013
help me.....
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.
7.21.2013
Love Covers a Multitude of Sins
Soren Kierkegaard
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.
7.14.2013
The Greatest Question
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?"
7.07.2013
Rule Number One
I
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
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.
6.30.2013
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
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
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?”
6.23.2013
The Impossible Takes a Little Longer
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)
6.16.2013
The Other Guy
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.
6.09.2013
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.
6.02.2013
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."
5.26.2013
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.
5.19.2013
The First Pentecost
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?
5.12.2013
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
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.
5.05.2013
A Short Meditation on Giving
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?"
4.29.2013
Christian Zen
“All the way to heaven is heaven,
because Jesus said, "I am the way.”
―
St. Catherine of Siena
4.28.2013
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.
4.21.2013
Big Blind
I'm sure
there are
a lot of
people
thinking:
"What were
those people
thinking?"
Placing
schools,
old folks' homes,
houses
right next
to a plant.
Gambling
with their lives.
Especially
when they
can't see the
This Week (Boston/Baghdad)
The Iraqi
police sergeant
wished
he had the
luck that
occurred
this week
in the Empire.
A brother
ran over
by his sibling
in a car theft.
The boy
later found
in a boat
in a water town.
And as he looked
at his current
he sighed
his request
to al-Malik:
“Bless those you
have received in
Paradise.
And make me
an instrument
of your
Justice.”
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