In Our Distress

Meditation: angelus est nomen officii

In my extremity, I called out to the Lord;
I cried out in the congregation in my distress.
I was answered with love;
I was restored and removed to a better place;
With the love of the Lord with me, how can I be cut down?

Place your trust in the Lord;
Seek the Almighty where he waits upon his beloved;
Though your enemies surround you;
Though you find yourself at fault and unworthy;
Though you see no escape, there is help and hope for you;
The Lord is our strength and right arm;
His servants listen for the cry of the oppressed;
They wait upon the word of the Lord.

The Lord is our salvation and our help;
Though we may be chastised,
we are not condemned;
Though we find ourselves in distress;
even at the end of our lives and beyond;
We are enfolded and comforted;
In the Lord we find our true labor;
In the Lord we truly find ourselves.

-distantly after Ps 118

The Wonder of Naming

Proposed Antiphon: Take time to understand

The men and women sit around on plastic chairs
They wear boots held together with packing tape
Their socks mostly don’t match

Their pants are dark and worn, but not torn.
You won’t get sent out, if your pants are torn.
They are washed and clean shaven
You won’t get sent out, if you are scrufty.
The bosses don’t like it.
There is soap and razors if you need them.
Soap and razors for those who can’t afford them.

One or two of them will talk – will talk a lot
These are the new ones, the ‘I have a dream’ ones
The egotists, the scammers, the ‘cover-it-with talk’ ones
The rest say only what they must
They are silent, and mostly still
They are here to work

They sit around and wait for someone to call their name
It may be the only time they hear their name all day
Unless someone at home speaks it
Whatever home is for them
Wherever they go at night

Other than that, they are nameless

It is bad to make attachments
A waste of time to litter your mind with names
Names of people who don’t want to be here
Names of people who don’t want to be remembered here
Names of people who will go, and you will never see again
Names of lost people, people like you

Oh they have names
Names that are important to the bosses
Names that are called out sometimes to go work
Names that must appear on checks or vouchers
And in reports and tax forms
And sometimes in legal documents
That take what little they earn

But mostly they have bodies
Legs and arms to lift and carry
Hands to grasp and open and close
Brains are not required
And names are just labels anyway
They could just as well be numbers

But sometimes life breaks through;
Someone stops, and smiles, and the smile is returned
Someone speaks a name
A name for no reason
A name that shows someone remembered
A name that shows that someone cared
Enough to add your name to the list
To their personal litany of remembrance

Whether you are lost, or not.

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Be Strong

by Maltbe D. Babcock 1858-1901

Be Strong!
We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;
We have hard work to do, and loads to lift;
Shun not the struggle-face it; 'tis God's gift.

Be Strong!
Say not, "The days are evil. Who's to blame?"
And fold the hands and acquiesce-oh shame!
Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God's name.

Be Strong!
It matters not how deep intrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day how long;
Faint not-fight on! Tomorrow comes the song.

Create

Our God is a Creator;
He generates and nurtures;
He loves and cares;
And you are God's child.

When you are without;
Remember that God is with you;
You are not alone;
You are beloved and betrothed.

God stands with you;
And God's armies surround you;
And God's angeles support you;
Your self, and your soul are safe;
You are not alone;

Listen for the voice of God;
Listen to the voice of God;
It is not a voice that says;
'Reject';
It is not a voice that says;
'Condemn';
It is not a voice that syas;
'Hate';

It is a voice that says;
'Help';
It is a voice that says;
'Share';
It is a voice that says;
'find a place where you can make a difference';

Create in your life;
Do what you can;
In the place you find yourself.

God is with you;
And God blesses your creations;
Leave your frustrations and anger behind, and

Create!

I am a poor steward

I am a poor steward.
I fail to go.
And when I do,
I go too slow.

I am a poor steward,
I have not done much.
I have not helped
I did not touch.

I am a poor steward,
It was not enough
I did not volunteer
When things got tough.

I am a poor steward,
I whine and moan
To help is hard
I trudge, I groan.

I play dumb games,
I waste my time,
I forget names,
I make up rhymes.

I am a poor steward,
And much I waste.
I don’t do good,
I am less ‘salt’ than ‘paste’.

I will be a poor steward,
But still I’ll go.
Please, forgive me, Lord,
That I go slow.

The Unusual Desk

In the night I pray for guidance in this interesting life I live
And I see warm brown leather
With ink drawings appearing and disappearing on it
I see the letters ‘VS’ appearing between two fragments of drawing,
And I wonder what they mean
The scene shifts and I find myself in front of a large wooden desk
In a large room that is strange to me, all done in wood of light tones
It is empty, but it feels welcoming and warm
The thought comes to me that this is like an English courtroom
But it is not much so to my eye
The desk is in the middle of the room
And there are wooden barriers like altar rails down either side
Beyond which several ranks of wooden chairs rise
Perhaps more like a room of parliament
But the dream is focused on the desk – the room is the background for the dream
The desk itself is odd
There are vertical ridges dividing it into three major sections
Making it uncomfortable to write the way I would like
With a paper at a jaunty angle
The left section is decent sized, no more than two feet wide
And the right one is very wide, over three feet wide
But the center one is narrow, too narrow for letter sized paper
To write here, you would need narrow paper
It seems that the form of what one would write here would be restricted
I opened the desk, the center section lifts and there are writing materials
A drawer as wide as the right section pulls out,
And there are disassembled bits for old ink pens,
Wooden shafts and nibs,
I start to assemble a pen and begin to look for the ink
And I wake

None are Unclean

From Acts 11 NRSV:

Then Peter began to explain it to them, step by step, saying, ‘I was in the city of Joppa praying, and in a trance I saw a vision. There was something like a large sheet coming down from heaven, being lowered by its four corners; and it came close to me. As I looked at it closely I saw four-footed animals, beasts of prey, reptiles, and birds of the air.

I also heard a voice saying to me, “Get up, Peter; kill and eat.” But I replied, “By no means, Lord; for nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.”

But a second time the voice answered from heaven, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.” This happened three times; then everything was pulled up again to heaven.

At that very moment three men, sent to me from Caesarea, arrived at the house where we were. The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make a distinction between them and us. These six brothers also accompanied me, and we entered the man’s house. He told us how he had seen the angel standing in his house and saying, “Send to Joppa and bring Simon, who is called Peter; he will give you a message by which you and your entire household will be saved.”

And as I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning. And I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said, “John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.”

If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?’

Hinder not God, but treat all with fairness, favoring none, poor nor rich, weak nor strong, discerning not between the races, or the sexes, or by who was born of what parents. For all are called to be Children of God, and all are desired at the great feast.

Look at yourself, and see if you truly treat all alike, repent and turn to the way of God.

Peace,
LE

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

On Palm Sunday

It’s the King!

The King is at the gates!

The King is just down the street!

The King claims He is One with God!

Blind people see!

Deaf people hear!

Run, Run and find him!

Praise him! Praise him!

Save! Jesus Save Us!

Save us from hunger!

Save us from oppression!

Save us from hardship!

Save us from pain!

Save us from difficulty!

Save Us!

Lead Us!

Be our King!

Topple the Government!

We will rise!

We will march!

We will fight!

Wait, he slips away…

He will not fight…

He will not confront…

He is… …he is arrested…

He goes meekly, like a lamb…

His disciples run like frightened children…

We are betrayed…

We remain oppressed…

We remain in hunger…

We remain in desperation…

But he said he was the One!

Jesus?

What to DO with Jesus?

The one who dashed our hopes?

The one who pretended to be the King?

The one who pretended to be GOD?

Crucify!

Crucify Him!

Crucify Him!

Crucify Him!

Diggin

Do you have anything for me today, Lord?
Something in your sack?
Some miracle for me Lord?
Something to bring my cheer back?

I don’t want to dig all my life, Lord,
Don’t want to dig and hew
Don’t want to labor for the taskmaster, Lord,
Isn’t there anything you can do?

I owe my life to the government, Lord
And the banks stole it all away
I never agreed to sell my freedom, Lord
I never gave it away

Find me where I am working, Lord
Kuz they won’t let me stop
Find me where I am slaving, Lord
Working on the job

I’ll be digging for your glory, Lord
I’ll be digging for Love
I’ll be telling my story, Lord
And dreaming of heaven above

May all your dreams be peaceful and happy,
Even if your life is less cooperative.

Are you Saved?

Are you saved... ...when were you saved?
People used to ask a lot.
We do speak of salvation sometimes now,
But more often not.

Is saving what happens in this life?
Or does it happen when we die?
Can it happen a long time later,
When in the grave we lie?

Can we be saved in both,
Can we be saved again?
Do we know what saving is?
Can you please explain?

Is saving like pickling,
Or like a photo that we take?
Or is saving like a change
Like love or when hearts break?

And did Jesus save us long ago,
Or does he save today?
And when we say our God came down to save us,
What do we mean? What way?

And if the saved can fall, can they fall from grace in death?
Can you still fall from grace when you can't draw a breath?

Are these important questions,
or do we all just need
to hear God's word and do it?
That would be good indeed!

We are Created Good

We are created good;
As all God creates is;

And God asks us to work;
In his fields out of love;

Love bears fruit and saves us;
Making us fit dwellings;

For our holy Father;
And his blessed Jesus.

Who calls out to each soul;
To offer them his yoke:

"Take it upon yourselves!"
"This burden is quite light!"

Sharing his life with us;
For all of us he died.

Though many start away;
He calls them "Come inside!"

Some from the faith will fall;
And others faith attain.

Yet Jesus came for all;
And calls each one by name.

(Not a definitive work on theology, just a finger, pointing...)

Ten for Life

In our dreams we oft can tell;
What from heaven, what from hell;

But in a cloud we have our days;
And oft should curse what garners praise;

Fair is foul and foul is fair;
Lies and half-truths cloud the air.

This world so fickle and so oft wrong;
Honors the glib, the fake, the strong;

Honors false over the true;
Honors words, not those who do.

If we find honors at our feet,
Perhaps we'd best be in retreat;

And seeing people raised up high;
On piles of honors, to the sky;

Hope not that they might fall this day;
But stand well clear and well away.

Tho' honor's given where it should not;
Yet we can judge by what is wrought:

And by their fruit do judge them still-
Doing wrong or naught, then find them ill.

Let God's commandments be your guide;
Mark them well -mark them inside:

Love the Lord and love your foe;
And often to your neighbors go:

And bring them gifts and help in need;
And be to them good friends indeed.

Worship not nor be obsessed
With this world; In God be blessed.

Nor worship any man-made lie.
Worship not the earth or sky;

Don't worship spirits of the air;
They cannot save nor do they care.

Don't make God's name a joke or worse,
Don't use God's name within a curse.

Do six days work, take one day rest;
Give it to heaven- you will be blest.

And let your helpers all rest too;
It is the Godly thing to do.

To your parents give your care;
See they can eat, have clothes to wear;

And give some mind to what they say;
You may be just like them someday.

Do not kill your fellow man;
But seek to save; do what you can.

Don't want or take what is not yours;
But work for that your heart adores.

And as this sin causes so much pain,
Let me emphasize again:

Take not from others save what they share;
Lest you cause them pain and care;

God will hear their suffering call;
May judge you ill, may let you fall.

And if you have ill gotten gain;
Pay it back, and twice again.

God will bless you and forgive;
And in your house the Lord will live.

Do not take another's spouse;
You'll bring a curse down on your house.

Honor your spouse, treat with great care;
Those who love you, and with them share.

Say nothing false, but what is true;
And give your lips a rest or two.

Seek out the good things you can do;
Treating others as they were you.

Keep these precepts in your heart;
If you'd be blessed, they're a good start.

Peace
LE

Joy

You are not yet so joyful as I mean you to be!

So Live-
And live in joy!
And share your joy and love with those you meet-

Be not dauted;
but daunt with love-

Let your heart expand;
Let your love flow;

And live in joy-
Mourn no more;
And regrets leave behind-

But share and give;
And love;
And live!

Let your blood flow;
And let your love grow-

And all you are;
And all you can be;
And all you are with;

Give
And Give;
And Give;
And Give!!!

Be not single and small
But Live
And Live;
And Live;
And Live!!!

For living is about giving;
And giving is about living;
And loving is about living;
And loving is avout giving;

So Give;
And Love;
And Love;
And Live!!!

Joy!

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

We Are Alike

We are alike
We love
We care
We love beauty
We care for others
We are alike

Our hearts beat
Our blood flows
We can be hurt
We can cry
We are alike

We make friends
We like to share
We like to talk
We like to take food together
We are alike

We can walk
We can walk together
We can help each other
We can help others
We get joy from helping
We are alike

We can give
We can give to the needy
We can share knowledge
We can see justice done
We can comfort the sorrowful
We are alike

Our love can flow
Can flow out from us
Together it can be
It can be a river
A cataract
A torrent
A flood
An ocean
Covering all the earth
Filling every hollow
Rushing into every closed room and cell
Washing out every dark hole and sewer
Flooding the caverns and canyons of the earth with liquid light
We are alike
And together we can do wonderous things

Let us begin

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.)

Living Into Our Call

We all have a vision, I think, of our 'best self';
The self we hope to be,
And perhaps are meant to be.

A self who is uniformly good,
A self who is uniformly kind,
A self who is uniformly fair,
A self who has a special kind of wisdom,
A self who walks with God.

Visualize that self.
See that parnership with the Almighty.
Call forth your faith;
And walk that path.

Acknowledge and put aside thoughts and deeds that do not belong to your best self.

Put on the white robe of faith and walk with the Lord. Be your best self when you greet people, when you work, when you are with family, when you dine, when things go well, and when they go wrong.

Reframe your thoughts, words, and deeds from the perspective of your best self, and as if you were already living the life you imagine that this faithful self lives. Don't just count your blessings; that is for beginners; SEE yourself as blessed.

Envision your body, glowing with love and light. You are God's hands here on earth - Reach out and create, heal and help.

And when you stumble, pick yourself back up, admit your mistake, put your robe of faith back on, and go back to work.

You ARE blessed, and you ARE needed, more than you know or imagine.

Inspired by this, and St Paul.

Wednesdays

This post has been lightly edited since first posted

You might think that Monday starts the week
Or maybe Sunday.

You might think Friday ends the week, or maybe Sunday again.

But Wednesday is the middle.
Most certainly the middle,
The center of the week.

Thursday and Friday and Saturday and Sunday have particular liturgical connotations. Church Fathers, Christian theologians and mystics have suggested that Sunday and every day be a participation in the great Eighth Day, when Jesus rose; and that Saturdays remind us of Holy Saturday in holy week, and that Fridays all remind us of Good Friday, and that Thursdays remind us of Maundy (or perhaps Agape) Thursday. Each is rich in tradition.

But Wednesday is kind of like the end of 'ordinary time' - the last day before the mystery and passion is revealed.

Where does Wednesday sit liturgically?

And what devotions do you add to Wednesday?

Perhaps Wednesday should remind us of Ash Wednesday?

Should Wednesday be a solemn day of preparation?

Or is it the last regular day before you start thinking about the weekend?

Much as I like a good party, our current culture's celebration of 'hump day' seems wrong-headed.

Is what we are doing with our work-days, our weeks so very useless, unfulfilling, and without reward that we must celebrate when the week is half over?

It seems like a disgraceful way to view what we do with our lives, and not how we should value or spend our limited time here.

Instead, perhaps Wednesday, in the weekly cycle, is where we make our transition from living in the eighth day, to preparing to meditate on Christ's passion again.

A joyful but serious day, a day of preparation. A day to express love, to share, to care, to help, to do little things, a day to finish one thing and begin anew.

May God bless you in all your days.

Love,
locust-eater