eleven::twentyseven

I hear of wars,
read of insurrections,
positioning of fleets,
underground plans.
I'm not exactly afraid,
feeling safe here
in these mountains.
Why would I ever
taste these wars,
touch insurrections?
It's more comfortable
to read the dreams
of kings and conquerers
from a computer screen.
Jesus' words are spoken
daily by the structures,
"I am he,"
"the time has come."
Few can remember
how to listen,
how to not listen,
for few want to hear
rumors of wars
for the hate they are.
And I don't want to fear.
But I'm feeling trapped
in safety and knowledge;
I know nothing
of suffering.

(Daniel 2:31-45, Daniel 3:57-61, Luke 21:5-11)

eleven::twentysix

Forgive me, those who regularly read these words, for being unfaithful this past week and failing to write. But, seeing that it is Monday, nearly now has been a Monday, I do have a homily to offer... Hopefully I will be better this week with writing poems.

I proceed into this homily with caution. It feels rather natural to me to reflect up today's readings from a socially provocative perspective. After all, here are four children of Israel refusing the provisions of the empire. Certainly the church today has something to learn from such a story. I'd also like to look at the implications of the Gospel reading and say something about social inequality. After all, aren't widows suppose to be provided for by the community, not taken for all they're worth, as one reading of the incident may tell?

But I proceed with caution because the words spoken now are to be used to direct us to the table. As such, it would probably be best to not the significance of eating in the reading from Daniel. What the children of Israel ate and how they ate defined them. As captives in the world of the Chaldeans, food and faith maintained their identity. In keeping true to their God, they were given knowledge and proficiency even in the ways of the Chaldeans and found favor with Nebuchadnezzar.

What then with us? We may not be so obviously in a foreign land as Daniel and his friends, but like them are we to called to a particular diet? It seems so. Literally, we are called to eat and drink particular food and drink. Further, we recognize in the Eucharistic celebration that it is God that provides the bread and wine, it is God that makes them holy, the Body and Blood of Christ.

And now it might be appropriate to make mention of the subversive nature of this meal. Like the children of Israel, we too are offered imperial food which has the potential to defile us. According to the underwriting political philosophies and ideologies of our socio-cultural-economic setting, we are "entitled" to seek to feast upon power, the ultimate liberal happiness. Such is the story we snacked on in our youth, whether or not we knew what we were tasting. But the meal God calls us to is one that in partaking of we proclaim the death of Christ. We feast to remember that we are called not to power, but to a sacrificial, self-giving way of life. This remembrance, this knowledge, if you will, also proclaims the resurrection, God's favor. Refusing the world's provision does not necessitate a total falling out of favor with the world (though it is likely those that seek power will hate us). After all, we are prepared by this diet of bread and wine to be participants in God's act of redeeming all the creation. It is with this meal and as the children of God who continue the self-giving ministry of Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit that subversive and redemptive action is carried and lived out.

(Daniel 1:1-6, 8-20, Daniel 3:52-56, Luke 21:1-4)

eleven::nineteen

(a homily)

Will things ever change? When will the people of the Covenant made with the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob cease to turn from that Covenant and God to the rulers of the day? It still happen today with the people of the New Covenant. When will it stop? Can no one see that the rulers of this world for the most part simply destroy? The powers invade new places and customs; beautiful distinctions are suffocated for the sake of hegemony. And all too often the people of the church, the people of God are right alongside the rulers, blessing their destructive regimes. Yes, the proverbial Crusades. The swastika embossed upon red in German chapels. The star spangled banner proudly placed in American sanctuaries. Will we ever learn?

Living the Christian life is beyond difficult. It necessitates a miracle. It is counter-intuitive to everything surrounding us, and so it is more than difficult to learn how to live as a Christian. It is certainly not helpful when the crowds rebuke us for trying to reach out to Jesus for healing. When we admit that we are blind, they try to silence our cry. In our setting, the crowd doesn't have to work too hard to deafen and stifle discipleship. It has the aid of a dominant culture that thinks it can do nothing wring, one that even the churches think OK to appropriate, and so the admittedly blind one won't easily be understood as seek the Good.

Yet, Jesus hears the call for mercy calls us to share his meal. See, this meal we are about to eat is one of the most subversive customs of all time. The bread and the blood of the new and everlasting covenant make us new. And somehow this meal and the fellowship it embodies is the answer to the questions I've asked.

We need to listen attentively to the Scriptures and stories of and about God's people throughout the centuries. Our time, though distinct, is not much different that other times. The church, it seems, is always on the brink of new forms of captivity. And yet we live in a new time as a new creation. In this reality we are given our identity and the ability to live differently than the world, to be determined, as it were, to die rather than profane the New Covenant. In our baptism we learned to die by identifying ourselves with Christ's death. At the Eucharist we are sustained in the new life of Christ in the power of the Spirit. And so, here we are, among God's people, in solidarity with the people of the covenant throughout all time, a people who will not follow the rulers of the earth, but who will be lead by the Holy Spirit, the One who makes all things new.

(1 Maccabees 1:10-15, 41-43, 54-57, 62-63, Psalm 119:53, 61, 134, 150, 155, 158, Luke 18:35-43)

eleven::eightteen

Everything around us seems to be going to hell.
And maybe it is.
But perhaps some will hear the other call
and walk in the new way.
Those willing to suffer for truth,
those willing to give up power in favor of love.
God, you hear us and know us
and we need your help.
The powerful, may they fall,
and may we lift them up in a new way.

(Malachi 3:19-20; Psalm 98; 2 Thessalonians 3:7-12; Luke 21:5-19)

eleven::fourteen

My guess is that they
imagine themselves as gods,
sitting around tables long,
long meetings putting numbers
into databases,
sending bombs
into enemy bases.
The powerful, the suit-clad,
the mighty, the oilmen.
And they think
they'll never be judged
knowing the weaknesses
they impose upon the weak.
In truth, I don't see an end
to the chaos and control,
except that it ends in me
and it ends in the church
when it realizes
from what it's been set free,
returning then to the healer,
the God who sits over gods
and subtly reminds them,
though they block their ears,
of the place where they belong.

(Wisdom 6:1-11, Psalm 82, Luke 17:11-19)

eleven::thirteen

I have said nothing
if my words stop with me,
trailing off into some
self-congratulation.
For words are never
only for ourselves,
but always related
to other ears and minds.
Unworthy are sayings
meant to insulate,
meant to self-serve,
forgetting life.
Oh, God am I just?
Am I working well
or simply speaking words?
I want to lift others,
delight the oppressed
and worry the principalities.
I need you Word,
your Spirit to say anything.

(Wisdom 2:23-3:9, Psalm 34, Luke 17:7-10)

eleven::twelve

(a homily)

Today's readings are a dream collection. In the couple of years now of writing short homilies for morning gatherings, I've come to rejoice when some common theme seems to flow through the first reading, the psalm, and the Gospel passage. The readings aren't always so well coordinated in Ordinary Time as they appear to be today. We might say the message the Word of God has for us today, based on the lectionary texts, is this: be disciplines and do not sin for God is an all-encompassing God present everywhere. The attentive listener might decipher such a message and the wise preacher might justly expound upon the plain word of God.

And yet in the the midst of these choice readings and their straight-forward words, I'm troubled as a homily writer. Is anything ever that easy, especially the Word of God. Has not quick and easy theological reflection led to disaster throughout the centuries? Preachers and parishioners, history seems to elucidate, would do well to not assume they 'get it'. I'm wondering if giving up 'getting it', if letting go of greedy knowledge, will make room for wisdom to take up residence in our souls and for little, yellow round seeds of faith to germinate in our spirits, uprooting the age old tree of knowledge that never quite helped us in figuring things out.

This life is complicate, and this life is a gift. Into this life the Word of God, filling the world already as Spirit, manifesting in the flesh in Jesus Christ. Responding to the Word of God as heard and seen in Christ does not 'uncomplicate' life. In Christ we're called to recognize there is knowledge too wonderful for us, too lofty for us to attain. We won't discover that there are depths too deep and heights too high, however, until we dive into the nether world and reach up to the heavens. Such a task, such a calling, such a way of life has the inevitable potential to be overwhelming, and so we have a guide, the Holy Spirit, the Wind of Wisdom. And we have a meal to sustain us on our journey, to help us remember as well that these depths we seek in worship are to be made manifest in the world.

The message we hear today in the Word of God is not all words, and it's not something to simple be explained. It is much more profound and beautiful, for it is Word and Spirit enfleshed, it is bread and wine for strength and sobriety. In short, the message is an invitation to follow the Way, to dwell in the Truth, and to enter into the Life. May the Spirit guide us, the Son teach and touch us, and the Father sustain us and give us life.

(Wisdom 1:1-7, Psalm 139, Luke 17:1-6)

eleven::eleven

Empires and states
are merchants and practitioners
of death.
Maybe more, maybe less.
But in truth
seek resurrection.
Beyond the powers
you will have life everlasting,
and this life is lived now.

(2 Maccabees 7:1-2, 7-9, Psalm 17, 2 Thessalonians 2:16-3:5, Luke 20:27-28)

Birthday Poem

My body came out of the womb
this day, nearly a quarter century ago.
And here I am,
in a beautiful world destroyed,
temples of God ignored,
waters polluted.
But, today I hear too of fresh waters.
Somewhere, somehow, there are fresh waters.
They are flowing from the temple.
They are rushing from consecrated temples.
Oh, God, close my eyes that I may hear.
Open my ears that I may see.
Things are not as dark as my words
often lead them to sound.
Or maybe they are,
but there is light, too,
water, too,
so long as we will upturn the tables,
the stands and foundations of ill commerce,
and then we will live, holy, true.
And may my body
be among the temples flowing
life giving water to a dying world.

(Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome, Ezekiel 47:1-2, 8-9, 12, Psalm 46, 1 Corinthians 3:9-11, 16-17, John 2:13:22)

eleven::(seven)eight

I come with nothing,
even more,
I mustn't come with a thing.
Empty I approach,
and out of the void I offer,
I have so much to give.
From my emptiness
I see your emptiness
and I know only together
we will be filled.

(seven: Romans 13:8-10, Psalm 112, Luke 14:25-33; eight: Romans 14:7-12, Psalm 27, Luke 15:1-10)

ten::six

Don't try too hard,
unnecessarily rambling,
but settle down in the profound.
There is much you can do,
much more you cannot.
All you should do
you will be gifted for.
So quiet down
and listen.
Goodness is still in the air
and you have breath.

(Romans 12:5-16, Psalm 131, Luke 14:15-24)

eleven::five

This is my first post for the month of November. So far two wonderful Solemnities have been celebrated, All Saint and All Souls. I failed to write reflections on them, and still yet I will not. But I will note that we have a lot to learn from the saints of the past and we must seek to be saints in the present. Holy ones, set apart, not to be divisive but to be a source of unity and healing in a broken and sick world.

Throughout the ages the saints of God have served God and people in dire circumstances, often in times and settings that would have caused anyone to question the existence of God. They have had to face famine, drought, and war all along being called to remain faithful to the Good News and the hope that the world is being and is yet to be redeemed.

Ours in no different a time. We have war on all sides. The sources of fresh water are quickly disappearing. We have either too little or too much rain. Energy sources continue to fuel destruction as they hiccup their final reserves. Leaders in governments and powerful businessmen seek personal gain at the expense of billions.

Yes, this is a time that the saints need to be revealed. If you are a saint, speak up. Pray. Talk with friends. Work on living differently in this world gone mad, this world that is killing itself, this world that God gave us to care for. We have failed in caring for it, and so Creation groans. Let us groan, too, but not only groan but also seek to mend the pains.

:::
(a homily)

"Oh, the depths of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How inscrutable are his ways!" It is always good to be reminded of the greatness of God. Perhaps we've got stuck on thinking highly about ourselves and need to hear of the One who needs no council. Or perhaps we've been brought so low by circumstances and realities around us that we need to hear of the great love of God whose saving help heals and protects us. And always we need to be reminded that God's praises are to always be on our lips, overflowing from the depths of our beings being renewed by the Holy Spirit.

Upon remembrance, upon receiving the Word and mercy of God, our lives are reshaped. We are able to question ourselves, to take account of our activities and the way we relate ourselves to the world. Mercy's work does not cease in us, but is meant to flow out of all we do. When we are humbles, when we pray sincerely and unceasingly, when we open ourselves up to the unsearchable ways of God, we are made answers even to others' prayers. If we are remembering well, we might become answers to the prayers of the poor and dejected. If we are remembering well, our voices might speak words of wisdom and truth with transformative effects.

But are we answers? I confess that often I am not. I'm more a cause for questions and confusion. And so I need the council of God and God's people. We all need council. I suppose that is one of the reasons we gather here together. We are drawn to the mystery of community and what it might offer. We come here because we know how often we need to be reminded of the great love of God in Christ Jesus. "From him and through him and for him are all things." We are here to gather around the remembering table to be reoriented to the One who has saved us from ourselves. The unsearchable ways of God are made real in the bread and wine, and so we eat and drink to remember that which on our own we could have never known. Let us prepare to encounter the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God and pray we would be made to be answers to prayers, faithful apostles of God in the power of the Holy Spirit.