Weeping Waters

Saved from the waters,
may I too be saved from the waters.
I hear them,
their breaking in the background.
I feel them,
touching my eyes.
I need some light
to arise out of my evening time.
Let me speak true things,
and think good thoughts,
not these heavy ones
from where they come I know not.
But they rush over me,
they pour down on me,
the swirl
and they swallow.
O Lord come down
and lift me up.
(It seems so odd to say this
when I hear the world weeping.)

(1 John 1:5-2:2, Psalm 124, Matthew 2:13-18)

Queens and Kings

These queens and kings,
they know nothing
of being true kings,
of being good queens.
Their scepters are sold
to behemoths,
gigantic leviathan
consuming the poor.
A true ruler
gives a rule of love,
of self-sacrifice,
justice and peace.
The prophet King,
the graceful Queen,
this is the thought,
the proclaimed,
and though she
will never succeed,
he will never
impose himself,
their reign lives on.

(Jeremiah 23:5-8, Psalm 72, Matthew 1:18-25)

twelve::seventeen

(a homily)

"O God, with your judgment endow your people to follow their King. May justice flower in the days we submit to him, and profound peace."

Something magnificent if happening among us. It has been happening for years. A king has come, a King who has blessed all tribes. He is of the tribe of Judah, mighty in its meekness. He is the descendant of Hebrews and holy women of other peoples. He cried mightily on this earth, as an infant, as an innocent criminal forgiving his murderers. And his cry reaches us today. We are to hear it and follow.

Let us recognize our King of both humble human genealogy and incomprehensible, mysterious, eternal, divine Godhood. We are called to recognize our King by following his way of justice, peace, and mercy. We hear this call as we worship and pray, opening ourselves to the direction of the Holy Spirit. Such a calling, such a way of life requires the stability only the Spirit offers, and we touch and taste our King's sustenance in the meal before us. We feast on his body and blood which was unjustly broken. But his justice overcomes injustice; his peace overcomes violence. Let us come to God in this meal with all our life asking that we may be made people worthy and able to follow our King, the Lord Jesus Christ, the God who brings justice and peace to the world.

(Genesis 49:2, 8-10, Psalm 72, Matthew 1:1-17)

twelve::thirteen

The desert
is soon to bloom.
Zeniths last
but a moment,
they fade.
Births happen
every minute.
Where will
we go?
I'm going
to the desert,
the one
colored green.
Please come
with me,
we will see
beautiful things.
Winds of force
and gentle breeze,
sitting quiet
under trees.
If we have ears,
listen with eyes,
compassion shines
even in the dark.

(Isaiah 41:13-20, Psalm 145, Matthew 11:11-15)

twelve::ten

(a homily)

The world, our land, is a desert. It is dry, and easily do the sands shift. Easily are promises forgotten, dreams scattered, ideas proven unsustainable. Yes, winter is the most honest of seasons with fallen leaves and dreary days, a looking glass by which we can view, an atmosphere in which we can feel the inward parts of the world.

But a garden is germinating. A spring is beginning to gurgle. The gray clouds are emptying their reservoirs of rain. A light is preparing to dawn.

From this garden's fruits we are given sustenance. The spring's waters, refreshment. As the clouds perform their task and part, the light shines down to reveal that God has prepared a new way. This way goes through the desert, and it gives hope to those who travel it. It bids sinners to walk with new steps, to think with a renewed mind, to dream holy dreams.

We are taking such steps as we approach the table before us. We taste the fruits of a garden that grows in a desert when we eat the bread and drink the wine. Even in these dark and honest days of winter it is revealed to us that a deeper truth exists, one that penetrates the darkness, for it is the foundation of all that is good.

If we taste this truth, if we hear the bubbling spring of life, if we feel the light shining down on us, let us go from this place exposed and transformed. And let us learn to invite others to travel the highway with us, even if we or they must be transported on a stretcher, for Christ will heal us so we may walk. The Spirit will strengthen us and enlighten us to live faithfully in the midst of a desert.

(Isaiah 35:1-10, Psalm 85:9-14, Luke 5:17-26)

twelve::nine

This first week of Advent,
first week of the new church year,
I have seen the darkness
draw nearer and near
engulfing my mind
my thoughts and positions.
But a light will dawn,
has dawned,
and one day, again,
I will feel the breeze
carrying its warmth.