here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
ee cummings 1952
Cummings echoes Easter in his words.
here is the deepest secret everyone knows
roots feed on it and buds hold its promise
it is the wonder that spangles the sky and cradles the soul
Jesus whispers it from the cross
dances it across the garden
breathes it to his beloveds
i carry your heart(I carry it in my heart)
here is the deepest secret at the heart of life
it breaks the bonds of sin and death
it removes guilt as far as east is from west
now and forever more, the one from whom life comes
smiles and knows
i carry your heart(I carry it in my heart)
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Friday, April 18, 2014
Good Friday
This is the night we
Mourn.
Our hearts lament.
Our songs bewail in minor keys,
diminished by death.
This is the night
minds are numbed
bodies tremble
and faces are buried in tear soaked palms
This is the night of utter loss;
when the best is taken from us
This is the night
Martin Luther King Jr was shot on the balcony
Oscar Romero was gunned down at mass
This is the night of
Auswitz, Dachau, Baden-Baden
And the millions of
Labor Camps
Execution Chambers
and Torture Rooms
littering the planet,
strewn across history,
fouling every human occupancy.
This is the night
Darfur looks like our future
and the millions who live in refugee camps
become a permanent part of humanity.
This is the night
we step onto the Trail of Tears
This is the night
fear, corruption, avarice, and lust
blot out the sun, moon, and stars
and freeze our souls
This is the night
innocent families are abandoned in the aftermath of tragedy
This is the night
Truck-loads of people, seeking a better life, are found dead,
forsaken by coyotes transporting them to the land of promise
This is the night
passenger jets slam into twin towers
This is the night
employers cut health care,
miners contract black lung, and
the children of Abraham blow each other up
This is the night
babies eat lead tainted paint chips,
school children are exposed to asbestos and
pollution tips the planet to destruction
This is the night
someone you love dies of cancer
This is the night
Mary stood at the foot of a cross
watching
the life drain from the brutalized body of her first born child
This is the night
the Hand Maiden of the Lord had to ask,
“Why? O, Why? O, God, why?”
This is the night
our very core aches with pain
On this night
a void opens in our soul;
a chasm rips us apart from everything we have known to be true;
On this night God dies
We come to this holy place
this sacred space
because this is the only container for our grief
because this is the only space that can hold the enormity of our anguish
because of this thing that has taken place.
There is a truth at the heart of this night.
As uncomfortable as it is
as much as we want to hurry past it
The truth is simply:
only those who can sit with the pain of
suffering
sin
broken hearts
and crushed souls;
only those
who pause in the interval of eternity,
when grief stops the world,
have the capacity
have the audacity
to let leak a hope that something is coming.
But for now:
let us lock ourselves in an upper room
let us weep and know the helpless hopeless loss
let Friday,
Holy Friday
simply be the night,
Jesus died.
Mourn.
Our hearts lament.
Our songs bewail in minor keys,
diminished by death.
This is the night
minds are numbed
bodies tremble
and faces are buried in tear soaked palms
This is the night of utter loss;
when the best is taken from us
This is the night
Martin Luther King Jr was shot on the balcony
Oscar Romero was gunned down at mass
This is the night of
Auswitz, Dachau, Baden-Baden
And the millions of
Labor Camps
Execution Chambers
and Torture Rooms
littering the planet,
strewn across history,
fouling every human occupancy.
This is the night
Darfur looks like our future
and the millions who live in refugee camps
become a permanent part of humanity.
This is the night
we step onto the Trail of Tears
This is the night
fear, corruption, avarice, and lust
blot out the sun, moon, and stars
and freeze our souls
This is the night
innocent families are abandoned in the aftermath of tragedy
This is the night
Truck-loads of people, seeking a better life, are found dead,
forsaken by coyotes transporting them to the land of promise
This is the night
passenger jets slam into twin towers
This is the night
employers cut health care,
miners contract black lung, and
the children of Abraham blow each other up
This is the night
babies eat lead tainted paint chips,
school children are exposed to asbestos and
pollution tips the planet to destruction
This is the night
someone you love dies of cancer
This is the night
Mary stood at the foot of a cross
watching
the life drain from the brutalized body of her first born child
This is the night
the Hand Maiden of the Lord had to ask,
“Why? O, Why? O, God, why?”
This is the night
our very core aches with pain
On this night
a void opens in our soul;
a chasm rips us apart from everything we have known to be true;
On this night God dies
We come to this holy place
this sacred space
because this is the only container for our grief
because this is the only space that can hold the enormity of our anguish
because of this thing that has taken place.
There is a truth at the heart of this night.
As uncomfortable as it is
as much as we want to hurry past it
The truth is simply:
only those who can sit with the pain of
suffering
sin
broken hearts
and crushed souls;
only those
who pause in the interval of eternity,
when grief stops the world,
have the capacity
have the audacity
to let leak a hope that something is coming.
But for now:
let us lock ourselves in an upper room
let us weep and know the helpless hopeless loss
let Friday,
Holy Friday
simply be the night,
Jesus died.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Palm Sunday
evoking for Jews and Romans alike
the, “vanquishing victor;”
This
warrior,
this ruler,
this King:
rode
into Jerusalem on a
humble colt.
Wore
homespun not polished
armor
Spoke of
sin, redemption, forgiveness, and reconciliation
not,
national sovereignty, revenge, resentment, or
retaliation.
Jubilant
crowds lined the roads,
knowing
they witnessed a winner,
completely misunderstanding
God’s vision of success.
And
that is what makes this day, this week,
uncomfortable.
Zealots
and true believers
did not understand:
Jesus
had come to conquer;
not just a back water province,
nor just a Roman empire.
His,
was not a cause,
nor a campaign.
Jesus
had come,
to reclaim
all of creation.
They
did not understand:
Jesus came to the Holy City
not to deal death
nor to sidestep death
but to meet death
head on.
He
would conquer
the world and death itself
by dying.
In
so doing,
he vanquished all that separates us.
By the cross,
there is no more
Gentile nor Jew
no more ally nor
opponent
no more liberal nor
conservative
no more master nor
slave
no more person that we
like or don’t like
no longer is there someone
who has wronged me
By
dying to death
Jesus
made a world
populated with neighbors
whom you and I are
asked to help
whose hurts we are to
bind
for whose welfare we
are responsible
Such
radical love calls us to forgive
and when we can’t or won’t
we wound his sacred
head
we drive another nail
into the hands of Christ
we pierce his side
This
is what makes
the passion story
so familiar,
so challenging,
so painful,
and so
personal.
In
our arrogance,
we hold grudges
and cling to the pain of past slights and
violations.
We
nurture resentments and tote them around –
holding
them as so precious
that we would sacrifice
the sweet possibility
of God doing something awesome
for the bitter gall of our own way
We
would rather join the jeering crowd
than trust the Lamb of God
In
our ignorance
we judge others:
preferring to “tsk – tsk” in finger pointing contempt
than to heal with
forgiveness
The
crowds that ripped branches from trees
and
screamed with excitement
did not understand:
their hunger would be eased
and
their emptiness filled
not by conquest
nor power
nor wealth
nor even condemning others
but
only by the challenge, the grace, the power, of
the
cross.
No
branch of science, nor bible study class,
can explain the cross completely.
No
homily or lecture
can
fully outline its meaning
give justice to its weight
or unravel its mystery
Yet,
all
of us
will
eventually find ourselves
walking
that dusty,
lonely
path to Calvary ,
and,
standing
before the cross
we
will face our self
Naked
Without pretense nor excuse
Without crutch of resentment or grievance or
blame
Then,
we will hear from the heart of the cross
“whenever you have done
it to the least of these
you have done it to me.”
Our
hearts will tremble, tremble, tremble
When
we hear from the heart of life:
“Whoever
wishes to come after me
Must deny themselves
take up the cross,
and follow me.”
For
there, on the cross
in
the person of Jesus Christ:
the Holy Mystery of God
turns to us a human face saying;
“Fear, not, for I have come to
redeem you.”
This
week, this holy week,
the Garden of Gethsemane
redeems the Garden of Eden
The
human fear and treachery of every Adam and every Eve
within each of us
meets
the human trust, love, and obedience
of Jesus of Nazareth .
This
week
standing bare
before the cross
words
well up from our very souls
“O
Lamb of God
who takest away the sins of the world
have mercy upon me.
O
Lamb of God
who takest away the sins of the world
have mercy upon me
O
Lamb of God
who takest away the sins of the world
please, O please,
grant me thy peace.
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