Something to look at when times are hard;

Chocolate

Proposed Antiphon: A new commandment I give unto you, that you love one another as I have loved you.

Chocolate, ...

Honey, ...

Bread, ...

Lemons, Butter, Trees, Dogs, Sunshine, ...

Elephants, Grass, Eggplant, Olives, Fuzzy Peaches, Beaches, French Fries, ...

Birds, Streams and Brooks, Skipping Stones, Crayfish, Noses, Eyes, Ears, Toes, Poppy Seeds, ...

Blue Sky, Clouds, Baklava, Milk, Cats, Eggs, Goats and Sheep, Vines and Grapes, Flowers, ...

Kittens and Puppies, Baby Animals of All Sorts, Wine and Water, Pepper, Fingernails, Milkweed and Monarchs, Persimmons and Figs, Curiosity, Spaghetti, Rings, Marshes, Cloth, Skin and Bark, Gold, Iron, Paprika, Stars, Ants, Beans, Volcanoes, Whales, Churches, Oxen, Snack Time, Work, Blood, Bells, Rainbows, Fur, Dirt, Electricity, Paper, Nests, Love, Crystals, Malt, Felt, Silver, Eyebrows, Dyes, Mist and Fog, Houses, Watches, Helpful Strangers, Parties and Friendships, Co-Workers and Acquaintances, Wives and Husbands, Parents and Children, Grandparents and Grandkids, Aunts and Uncles, Nieces and Nephews, …

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…Scott and Hilary, Craig and Lora, Ian and Renee, Libby and Jill, Mom and Dad,

And Most of All,

YOU

Are Evidence That God Loves Us

-And Wants Us To Be Happy.

What to Wear?

When we go a feasting
We wonder what to wear
Which shoes go on our feet
If we should 'do' our hair

Is this a time for white
Or should we all wear black
Should we buff our buttons bright
Or could we wear a sack

When we enter in
If we aren't like the rest
We might feel singled out
The cuckoo in the nest

But some don't have the means
To buy a fancy suit
For them 'What to Wear'
The question is quite moot

So when we gather in
And hope that all will come
I'd like if we dressed humbly
Both rich and poor as one

And maybe the Lord God
Who forgives our sinfulness
Will value every single soul
No matter how we dress


Peace
LE

Jesus The Small and Meek

Tonight, the television showed me a person going into a church.

The person was shown moving up an aisle, with chairs stretching wide on either side. The church was huge. The next shot showed someone praying, eyes closed, from the level of the prayer's face.

You could see the first person approaching from behind, but barely could pick out the back wall, which ascended out of view.

Finally, the shot looking forward. The two people are small figures, dwarfed, like the seats and everyone there, by the immense wall with it's giant, resplendent, red-robed Jesus.

Which is wrong.

Way I hear it, Jesus wasn't that tall, and didn't go in for robes, or making people feel small.

His idea of worship was a few people gathering and talking about God, some prayer, a blessing and a spot to eat and drink, oh, and a psalm to end the meal.

The whole point of Jesus, it seems to me, is his approachability.

God came to be with us, as one of us. Not as a giant, red-robed, inscrutiable vision, but as a friend and counselor, who would have a bite with you, tell you a story, and be with you no matter how mean your estate.

I don't mean to De-God Jesus. By no means. My point is Jesus is the God who loves us so much that he takes on our very matter and life, and lives as us.

So take heart: no matter how small and fallible you are, Jesus is coming to meet you. And you'll be able to look him in the eyes.

Peace
LE

I originally titled this post 'Jesus the small' but then I got thinking of Dorothy's line from 'The Wizard of Oz'...

Normally ExtraOrdinary

“A hero is someone doing extraordinary things, what I did was not extraordinary. It was a normal thing to do.” - Irena Sendler

Irena, risked her life, and suffered much torment to rescue 2,500 children from the Nazis. But in her eyes, her risk, torture, and soic self-sacrifice were just 'normal' things to do.

May we all be such people, that risking our lives and suffering for our neighbors is merely a 'normal' thing to do.

But if it is not normal to love so much, then let us be extra-ordinary, and may God bless us with the courage, the energy, and the strength to change the world such that the extrordinary becomes normal.

Peace,
LE

Returning Evil for Good

Why do some;
Shun you when you try to share your plenty with them?
Exclude you when you try to include?
Hate you in your efforts to help?
Return evil for Good?

One reason is that they need you to hate them.
They need you to be evil, angry, to be against them.
Their worldview does not allow for someone like you to be;

Nice,
Friend,
Partner,
Helper,
Companion,
Good,
Pleasant...

And the nicer you are, the more painful the dissonance between how they must see you and reality.

You can't be nicer than their grandma, their family, their spouse, their circle of friends. Your 'goodness' must be a lie, a scam, to lull their alertness, dull their senses so you can take advantage of them. They want no part of that, and need to strike out at you, make you stop, put you back into a steriotype that they can understand.

Don't make it easy for them by hating and excluding them back. It is hard work, but keep them on the spot as much as you can: be nice, be vulnerable, be weak.

Maybe, just maybe, they might start asking questions and come to different conclusions. They might change.

It has happened before.

Let us pray for opened eyes all around.

P.S. I myself am pretty lousy at this

Job Was A Good Man From Uz

Job was a good man from Uz,
Whose life caused a biblical buzz.
He was good as can be,
Steadfast as a tree.
And blessed in all things that he does.

His faith was quite pleasing to God,
But the Devil said ‘Isn’t it Odd?’
I think Job does what he should
‘Cuz his luck is all good.
If things went real sour, he’d curse God.

Well God said “I hear what you say,
That Job’s heart is as pliant as clay.
I think you are wrong
Job’s faith is quite strong
Go ahead, take Job’s blessings away.

Horrid Satan, that very same day
Took Job’s children and riches away.
But Job, though distraught,
Had faith, and he thought;
“The Lord giveth, and taketh away”.

Now the Devil got kind of hot
Things did not turn out like he thought.
But he thought he might
Still prove he was right
And prove ill Job whom Our Lord had wrought.

So Later - inside of a year,
Satan said to God; “Isn’t it queer
How to save their own skin,
The most righteous will sin -
Even Job whom you hold so dear.”

So God said “I see you imply,
That if Job thought that he might just die,
He would sin a whole lot,
-I think he would not,
But go on and give it a try.”

So Satan made Job really sick
Inflicted him with wounds, sores and ick.
From his foot to his head
Job wished he was dead
He was so sorely tried by ‘Ol Nick

Job’s wife didn’t do him much good
She said that she thought that he should
Curse his cruel God
That traitorous clod,
And if Job fell over dead, it’d be good.

But Job with a pious ‘Aum’
Uttered a brief Hebrew poem:
“God can’t only give good,
As you think he should,
Depart from me – with my Shalom.”

Then three friends of Job came to see
How Job still managed to be;
Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar
Came from near and from far
And sat next to Job, knee to knee.

They sat quiet with Job a long while
In true friendship – they showed some real style.
They said not a word,
They looked quite absurd,
With Job they were walking a mile.

Then Job spoke - cursed the day he was born.
His life he treated with scorn,
He wished he was dead,
Or died in birth instead,
His comfortable life was so torn.

Eliphaz, Zophar and Bildad
Gave the best advice that they had -
“Confess all your sin!
-This trouble you’re in,
Must be because you were bad.”

Then God showed up in a cloud,
With a wind and some thunder real loud;
Poor Job and his friends,
Feared that this was the end;
By the Almighty they were all quite cowed.

And God said; “This is not a dig;
But you all forget I’m quite big
Though I’m with you each day,
And I won’t go away,
For piety there is no ‘vig’.

By this speech faithful Job was impressed
Though his friends were rather distressed,
They’d all learned quite well,
That life can be like hell,
And the faithful are not always blessed.

Now Job, who had lost quite a lot,
Was restored – new children he got,
He got back his health,
And twice as much wealth,
And lots of grandkids to besot.

Now I hope that Job’s lesson is clear -
Not to hold things in this world too dear -
Don’t be quick to blame sin,
When folks fail to win.
Because trouble is always quite near.

The redemption of Bully McFister

I looked up Bully McFister today
You know, the one that used to steal your lunch money, and hit you for no reason? Who liked shooting small animals with his bb-gun and bragging about it? At length? The one who liked to make fists with one knuckle sticking out and hit us as hard as he could in the bicep to give us bruises? That guy, you remember.

Well I felt like looking up the old crew and I 'Googled' his name. I thought I might at 'best' see a police blotter report of a robbery or a shootout, or even more likely nothing at all. But no, he pops right up, I see evidence of a creative soul, a sharp mind, an analytic, go-getting man who writes beautifully. I enjoy reading what he writes, and he is relatively prolific!

I squint at his picture in awe, trying to see the wise-acre who flicked boogers at us all from the back row, who enjoyed picking fights and causing trouble, who left us achingly writing our homework with bruised arms. A faint echo is all I get. Yeah, it's the guy. Who knew? Clearly my elementary-school self judged him prematurely, and I carried that predjudice forward. Somewhere inside the obnoxious troublemaker were the seeds of this new person. A person who contributes much to our world.

So Bully made good. I am glad that he did... ...it somehow seems redemptive. But I feel guilty for assuming he wouldn't, and wonder if we aren't failing many of our boys if they can be percieved as so futureless in school, and yet be so much once they hit the real world. I wonder what Bully's story is... Did he change all at once? Was there a series of transformative events in his life? Or did he just slowly start opening up, once he was away from the strictures, cliques and repressions of the school environment?

I wonder...

But I'm not sure I'll be reaching out to Bully to discuss all this. My arm is still sore.

Peace,
LE


'Bully McFister' is a fictional name that I made up to relate this story, but the story itself is true. For anyone who is actually named this, I pray your life is at least as redemptive as that of my 'Bully'. And for those working and suffering with today's 'Bullies' I ask you to take note. God is everywhere, indeed. Maybe your 'Bully' needs an outlet, a friend, a big brother, or a role model, maybe the investment in him is hard and painful, but he has real potential too. (And I reccommend thick sweaters to protect your arms.)

When We Fall

Hurtful things
Done again and again
Maybe not intentionally to hurt
But not avoided
And returned to
And repeated.

Things we shouldn't do
Things we should do in moderation
That we do to extreme
Things that harm ourselves
Things that harm others

We all make mistakes
We all do things that are wrong
And we often, too often repeat them
Minor addictions
Bad habits
Sins and crimes

Sometimes they sneak up on you
You don't realize you are slipping
Sliding
Falling into sin

Try to keep God first
Keep God in your mind and make sure what you are doing is good.
And when you slip
Apologize
Try to make things right
And start anew

"I Will, With God's Help"

LE

Pente-Caust

This Pentecost I was made humble
This Pentecost I was made small
This Pentecost I was shown foolish
Perhaps the most foolish of all

On Pentecost we spoke as our brothers
Not in words known just to the elite
We spoke in tongues that were humble
Like the savior who washes our feet

Fire fell on us from heaven
Fire not of anger but of love
Fire made us one with our brethren
Fire fell on us from above

So next time we feel we are better
Next time we judge our way best
Let's remember the fire from heaven
That marks us all equally blest

And laugh at me that I am foolish
And laugh that we are all so weak
And laugh with the joy of the spirit
Who stands with the humble and meek

Living Fruitful Lives

The red-winged blackbirds perch on the cattails
Last year's cattails that are going to seed
Their brown firmness gone
They are transformed into down
Leaving stalks with strange, bleached tufts and wisps of fluff on them.

Some of the cattail fluff
Is carried off to pad nests
And comfort the little lives
That hatch and fledge there
Or becomes bedding for fieldmice,
Muskrats, and chipmunks.

Some is eaten by bugs
Or it rots on the stalk
Or in the mud of the marsh
Enriching the soil

And some of the tiny seeds that it carried
Burst open and grow anew.

May God grant us richly fruitful lives, and may many benefit thereof.

And may we also appreciate how very humble a fruitful life can be.