COUNTEE CULLEN

Poem for Today - May 3, 2014

YET DO I MARVEL

I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind,
And did he stoop to quibble could tell why
The little buried mole continues blind,
Why flesh that mirrors Him must some day die,
Make plain the reason tortured Tantulus
is baited by the fickle fruit, declare
If merely brute caprice dooms Sisyphus
To struggle up a never-ending stair,
Inscrutable His ways are, and immune
To catechism by a mind too strewn
With petty cares to slightly understand
What awful brain compels His awful hand.
Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:
To make a poet black, and bid him sing.

(c) Countee Cullen

WHAT ARE YOU 

WRESTLING WITH TODAY?

Poem for Today - May 2, 2014

JACOB

Years and scars later
I finally learn
all angels travel
under assumed names.

(c) George Garrett

Cf. Genesis 32: 23-33

UNBEARABLE SILENCE 

OF GOD

Poem for May 1, 2014

PROSE POEM

I look at you in helpless silence, incapable of doing a thing for you. In the middle of the white-washed walls of the hospital ward you lie, groaning quietly in the dark abyss of pain.  Only a miracle can bring you some relief. I have nothing to offer, but a prayer.  All my prayers reach the Almighty, an attempt I shall make.  I am trying to shake off His unbearable silence.  Desolation and numbness in your eyes drive me crazy and as I leave the ward quietly, I hear the footsteps of death. I want to cut off my ears to block their sound.  But will that delay the advent of death?  From your voicelessness before death, I move toward your silence after death – and I do not even want to feel angry or shed tears at my helplessness.

Suresh Parshottamdas Dalal.
Translated from the Gujarati
 by Bhadra Patel-Vadgama.
 © 1996, by the Poetry Translation
 Center Workshop I found this
on  page 505  in Language 
For a New Century,
 Contemporary Poetry from
 the Middle East, Asia And Beyond,
editor Tina Chang, Nathalie Handal
and Ravi Shannkar.

Painting on top: Hospital Ward 
by Edvard Munch.

FORGIVING AND 

NOT FORGIVING

Poem for Today - April 30, 2014

U 20000

He forgives the crows of the countryside’s roosters, forgives dusk as they sing. He forgives the stone grinders and B.C.’s casting technology.

He forgives the dry pen, the stubborn donkey. He forgives the female teacher in middle school, forgives the dumb woman for locking him in a dark classroom.

But he won’t forgive the human folly, even though he forgives the sealed walls, the crowded streets, the flies, even the person with goose bumps in a warm room.

He forgives the surrendering army, the judges who drink milk, his files, memos, decisions, but he won’t forgive slogans, documents, books, and the typos in instructions.

He forgives his children and wife for their betrayal; his weeping has never seen any words. Only today did he realize he had every reason to smash the radio.

But he didn’t. He forgives belief in electricity, belief in water. How sad the shiny river!  But he won’t forgive the unbelieving sky. Where is he going? Whom will he meet?

He forgives his cancer, his miserable funeral. He forgives the way he’d forgive rotten food. But he won’t forgive the paper money they offered.

Twenty years after he died, we acknowledge him as a person.

© Xi Chuan, excerpt

from “Misfortune”.

Translated from the Chinese

by Wang Ping and Alex Lemon

REBIRTHS, NEW EDITIONS, STARTING AGAIN, ETC. ETC. ETC.

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Rebirths, New Editions, Starting Again,  Etc. Etc. Etc,”

Today’s gospel continues with the story of Nicodemus, Nick at  Night He’s  the one Jesus tells he needs to born again. And like most of the main characters in the Gospel of John – he takes Jesus literally. So that’s why he says, “What? Go back into my mother’s womb and start all over again?”

Jesus calls all to rebirths, new editions, starting again and again and again.

So every year the church has Lent – leading to baptismal renewals at Easter. So folks read,  make retreats – attend conferences and workshops – hoping for growth – insights - change – reconversions – new beginnings and fresh starts.

Parish Missions and Renewals are a crucial piece of our story as Redemptorists.

I’ve often heard that’s the story of many marriages. They have their ups and downs. They have their falling asleep on the job called marriage – and please God people both don’t fall out of love at the same time. And it’s the making up – the waking up -  that are significant moments in the stories of many a marriage.

Life is ups and downs, peaks and valleys. To flat line is to be pronounced dead.

Take a moment to feel and take your pulse today. Where are you?

It takes Nicodemus time – but in time he becomes a follower of Jesus Christ.

ST. CATHERINE OF SIENNA

Today is the feast of St. Catherine of Sienna.

Reading short takes on her life last night, I was amazed to read at the bottom – that she was only 33 when she died.

Talk about retakes. She had many lives – hiding out in her room as a teen ager – then traveling – then getting involved in both church and state issues big time. They have over 400 of her letters to kings and poor unknowns. She challenged church to wake up and get on mission. She challenged priests to divest from the pursuit of money. She told popes to step down when there were 3 at the same time – as well as get back to Rome from Avignon – a great place to visit. At times folks wanted to assassinate her.

Talk about remakes. Rome declared her and St. Teresa of Avila doctors of the church in 1970. There were 30 males in that hall of fame – better wake up to women writers in our church.

CONCLUSION   

To look at our life?

It’s Easter time…. It’s Spring time…. The bursting new life flowering around us is like those reminders  that it’s time to renew a magazine or this or that.

I’m hearing that Pope Francis has gone through some big retakes.

I just read last night about a Benedictine Sebastian More. He said a big significant moment in his life was when he said to God, “You’re boring!”

Then the realization  - that I’ve been boring in how I’ve been doing life myself.

So it’s time for a shape up, a wake up, a rebirth, a new springtime in my life – like how about starting today. Amen.

O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O

Image on top: Chinese symbols of rebirth.

HOW OLD ARE YOU?

Poem for Today - April 29, 2014

E  00183

Confucius said: “At thirty, a man stands.”

At thirty, the doctor diagnosed his infertility. His clan                 will vanish. He shattered china, burnt books,               wailed himself to sleep.

Confucius said: “At forty, a man is no longer puzzled.”

At forty, he trembled at the sound of singing, guilt                     made him give up his golden Buddha. 

              He moved out of his mansion, turned over                   a new leaf. A weak man wants nothing 

              but peace.

Confucius said: “At fifty, a man knows the mandate 

              of heaven.”

Porridge stains all over his fifty-year-old wife, 

              he brings her vegetables and a small 

              sea bass after school. Late blooming love 

              is like the rusty oil in a wok.

Confucius said: “At sixty, a man’s ears are an                           obedient organ for Truth.”

He lost his hearing at sixty: a loud world was reduced               to expressions.

Confucius said: “At seventy, a man does as he                           pleases without crossing the line.”

Confucius died at seventy-three, an immortal age.

© Xi  Chuan,

Excerpt from “Misfortune”.

Translated from the Chinese 

by Wang Ping and Alex Lemon

Statue of Confucius,

Shanghai China.

THE WIND! 

A  TOUCH  OF  THE  SPIRIT  

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “The Wind! A Touch of the Spirit.”

TODAY’S GOSPEL

Today’s gospel has one of my favorite sayings, “The wind blows where it wills.”  I like to say that when someone sort of doubts or wonders about how life, church, realities are going.

“The wind blows where it wills.”

That’s the translation – the mantra – that blew into my mind a long time ago. It’s the translation I like- maybe in the earlier Confraternity of Christian Doctrine translation of the New Testament. I noticed that’s the way the New English Bible translates the Greek text of John 3:8

The New American Bible translation – the one we use in our liturgy has, “The wind blows where it pleases.”

Listen to the whole context again from today’s gospel reading: “The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

That’s John 3: 8. Jesus is saying all this to Nicodemus who comes to him at night. Nick is a man who knows there is more – and he has heard and he senses in Jesus – “Here is the one who can bring me the More – the More called ‘God’”.

THE WIND

I have always liked and been moved by that  statement of Jesus, “The wind blows where it wills – or pleases – or chooses.”  The Anchor Bible puts it this way, “The wind blows about at will….”  Those words have for me, a touch of the Spirit.

Did Jesus hear those words or did Jesus feel those words?  In other words, did he come up with them on his own – feeling the wind on his face one day – or was he in the synagogue or the marketplace and he heard someone say that?

How many people down through the years have felt the tug, the pull, the presence of the Spirit – the Spirit of God – when they experience the pull of the wind – or a storm – or a breeze?

The poet is us, the person needing, searching for spirituality, searching for God in us, sees leaves shaking in the sunlight, or branches waving or trees swaying and dancing in the distance – and God thoughts hit us.

We say, “The branches are moving – but wind – air – is invisible.”

How many people have come to an awareness of God because of the wind?

The wind: it has a mind of its own.

The wind: it does what it wills.

The wind: it’s out of our control.

The sailor knows this.

The farmer knows this.

The person walking down the street in the rain and it’s windy and they have an umbrella up – they know this.

The weather woman or man on the TV knows this.

Those who operate the Bay Bridge – know this on windy days – when they know big trucks will be moving across it.

The wind, as Jesus put it, blows where it wills.

Tornados, hurricanes, storms, come pushing towards us – and usually never at a time we expect them.

In the Book of Genesis, 3: 8, Adam and Eve, experience God when He comes to them in the garden – for a walk and a talk  - in the cool of the evening.

In the First Book of Kings, Chapter 19, Elijah experiences God in a tiny, whispering sound – and not in the strong and violent wind that crashes against the mountain – or the earthquake or in fire.

And others cry to God in the tornado or hurricane.

In the Acts of the Apostles – the disciples were in the locked upper room, filled with fear, - part of the scene in today's first reading - Acts 4: 23-31. It’s then that the Spirit of God, the Wind of God, comes barreling into the house they were in. The Spirit of God, the Holy Spirit, shook them down to their bones – and brought them back to life – just like the scene in Ezekiel – where all the dead – were seen to rise from the dead and come back to life.

If we’ve ever been out on the Bay – or the Ocean – or a lake or even the Lake of Galilee, we’ve seen and felt wind across the waters.

I’m trying in this homily to say that there is something about wind and God, wind and the Spirit.

CONCLUSION

The Book of Genesis – and all through the Scriptures – we get hints at what Jesus was coming up with when he said, “The Wind does what it wills.”

The various religions all know this: breathe in and breathe out – feel God in your breath – the God who formed us from the clay of the earth  - and breathed life into us.

We know the new born baby needs to get breathing. We know the dying person takes that last breath.

The wind, our breath, the invisible air – but so, so real – because we not only see plastic bags flying on a windy day – but birds glide on the air every day. We’ve seen sails pregnant – flags flapping – and kites flying – each telling us that they have a touch of the Spirit in them. Amen.