Monday, September 15, 2014

CLOUDS 
OF ANGELS 

Poem for Today - Thursday October 2, 2014



OUR LOST ANGELS


Ages ago, clouds brought them near
and rain brought them to our lips;
they swam in every vase, every cupped palm.
We took them into ourselves
and were refreshed.
For those luckier generations, angels
were the sweet, quickening substance
in all light, all water, every morsel of food.
Until the day the sun changed some, as it had,
took them skyward, but thereafter
the clouds failed to restore them.
In time, streams gave up
every spirit, and the sea, unreplenished,
finally became the void we had feared
it would become, the void we had imagined.
And, as now, clouds brought only rain,
and the emptied rain
brought only the chill in which
we must now be wrapped.


© Scott Cairns, pages 152-153
in Upholding Mystery,
An Anthology of Contemporary
Christian Poetry, Edited by
David Impastato,
Oxford University Press,

New York, Oxford, 1997
GOING TO CONFESSION

Poem for Today - Wednesday - October 1, 2014



LEONARD REFUSES TO ATONE


The moon comes up, a white cow
grazing on limbo.
Today in the confessional I yelled,
Father, I am the deaf one, absolve me
in a voice I can hear.
But as usual, he mumbled in the curtain
and the saints cast their eyes
past me, into the cold space of the loft
when I knelt at their feet.

What sins have I done
that you should forsake me?
Again, I asked loudly.
The saints are far deafer than I.
Their ears, curls of plaster,
have grown closed from listening
to the organ's unceasing low sobs.

I sit where the moon rides up,
swollen and tender,
the beast of my burdens. Her back is broad
enough to carry my penance and yours.
When she moans, the whole sky
falls open.
My weight has done this,
My life an act of contrition
tor the sins of a whole town.

But now, when I let the weight fall,
she arches, a slender thing
shot from a quiver.
Oh white deer hunted into a cloud,
I was your child, now I leap down,
relaxed into purpose,
my body cleaves through the air like a star.

Make your wishes, small children.
You others, make vows,
quickly, before I snuff myself out
and become the dark thing
that walks among you,
pure, deaf, and full
of my own ingenious sins.

© Louise Erdrich, pages 229-230
in Upholding Mystery,
An Anthology of Contemporary
Christian Poetry, Edited by
David Impastato,
Oxford University Press,
New York, Oxford, 1997

Picture on top: Confessionals
in Santiago de Compostella
in Spain - which we just  visited
last Tuesday, September 30, 2014.

WHAT LOVE CAN DO

Poem for Today - Tuesday  September 30,  2014


TRUE LOVE

binds all wounds,
wounds all heels,
whatever. You can tell.
William Buckley,
Gore Vidal, Sampson
and Delilah. Paul
and the Corinthians.
You can tell.

It makes us fight
and bleed, takes us to the heights,
the deeps, where we don't
want to go. Adam and Eve. Noah
and Mrs., David,
Bathsheba, Ruth,
Naomi. You can tell.

The way light surges
Out of nothing. The Magdalene,
The gardener, God help us,
We are God’s chosen now.

© Kathleen Norris
in Upholding Mystery,
An Anthology of
Contemporary Christian
Poetry, Oxford  University
Press, New York, 
Oxford, 1997,
Pages 223-224
Painting on Top:
St. Maximilian Kolbe,
who gave his life
for another. 
PAIN: 
IT HURTS! 

Poem for Today - Monday - September 29, 2014



THE WAY OF PAIN


For parents, the only way
is hard. We who give life
give pain. There is no help.
Yet we who give pain
give love; by pain we learn
the extremity of love.

I read of Abraham's sacrifice
the Voice required of him,
so that he lead to the altar
and the knife his only son.
The beloved life was spared
that time, but not the pain.
It was the pain that was required.

I read of Christ crucified,
the only begotten Son
sacrificed to flesh and time
and all our woe. He died
and rose, but who does not tremble
for his pain, his loneliness,
and the darkness of the sixth hour?
Unless we grieve like Mary
at his grave, giving him up
as lost, no Easter morning comes.

And then I slept, and dreamed
the life of my only son
was required of me, and I
must bring him to the edge
of pain, not knowing why.
I woke, and yet that pain
was true. It brought his life
to the full in me. I bore him
suffering, with love like the sun,
too bright, unsparing, whole.

© Wendell  Berry 
in Upholding Mystery,
An Anthology
of Contemporary
Christian Poetry,
edited by David Impastato.
Oxford University Press,
pages 43-44
SECOND  THOUGHTS 


 INTRODUCTION

The title and theme of my homily today is “Second Thoughts”.

Part of being a human being is to have second thoughts.

Second thoughts.

“You know, I was thinking. Would it be okay if I a, a, a  ... changed my a, a, a  ... mind?”

Seconds thoughts.

TODAY’S GOSPEL

That thought hit me when I read today’s readings, especially today’s gospel [Matthew 21: 28-32].

A man has two sons. He asks the oldest son to work in the vineyard that day. And the oldest says, “I’m on my way” and he disappears. So the father asks the second son and he says, “No!”

But the younger son has regrets. He has second thoughts. So he changes his mind and goes and does the work.

And Jesus asks, “Which one does the father’s will? Which one does what the father wanted?”

And obviously, the answer has to be the younger son.

And obviously Jesus is pointing out that the prostitutes and the tax collectors, the sinners were the ones who had second thoughts and started to convert when John the Baptist preached repentance. The elders and the chief priests didn’t.

Second thoughts.

FRANK AND KATIE

Years ago I was preaching a parish mission down in Ohio. There wasn’t any room in the rectory so myself and the priest I was working with stayed in parishioner’s homes. Tom was with one family and I stayed with another family. Neat.

The couple I stayed with had three kids. Two boys were away at college -- Ohio University and the daughter was in her first year of college -- but living at home -- and going to a community college -- much to the delight of her parents. Three kids in college at once. Big time bucks!

Well, I came into the house -- in the back door on Thursday afternoon and Katie, the wife and mother was in the kitchen and she says to me, “Did you do the dishes?”

I said, “No!” but I lied. Katie said, “Oh!”

I went upstairs to change and I met Frank and he says to me, “Did you do the dishes?”

I said, “No!” I lied again. I didn’t have any second thoughts. I wanted Liz to get the credit.

Well, when I got downstairs a few minutes later for supper, they both said to me, “You lied!” Obviously they compared notes. Then they said, “Liz never does the dishes.”

Once more I lied.

There were only some cups and bowls and some plates from breakfast and I had washed them after I had a sandwich for lunch. I didn’t want to wear out my welcome.

Then at supper Frank and Katie said, “I guess we spoiled our kids.” Then Frank went on. I ask Mike to cut the grass and he laughs and says, “No!” Then I ask John and he says, “Yes!” but he doesn’t do it. Then surprise I come home and one of them just did it.  Then at other times neither of them cut the grass. Knowing that sometimes I then do it. But sometimes Mike does it fast and then I have to redo it. Smart kids.”

Well, when I read today’s gospel, I felt right at home. Very real stuff.

But wouldn’t it have been great if Liz had second thoughts and did the dishes?

LIFE IS SECOND THOUGHTS AND THEN ACTING ON THEM

Life is having second thoughts and then doing something about our thoughts.

We say the wrong thing. We do the wrong thing. We make a mistake. We become lazy. We get into patterns that the other knows like the plates in the kitchen. Isn’t it great when we surprise each other? Isn’t it great when we do the dishes or empty the dishwasher or cut the grass or clean the garage or put the seat down in the bathroom and surprise the other or others. Surprise! I was thinking .....

TODAY’S SECOND READING

In today’s second reading we have this great early Christian hymn that St. Paul presents to us -- the kind of thinking we should have --the kind of attitude we ought to have. It’s having the attitude of Christ. [Cf. Philippians 2:1-11]

God created the world and all was good.

Then we got our hands on it and messed it up.

Then God got angry.

Then God had second thoughts.

He called Abraham, Moses, the prophets.

Finally God had the great thought -- to send his Son to us -- in the fullness of time. The Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Word become flesh, and lived amongst us. Then the Son had second and third and fourth thoughts -- becoming our servant, then dying on the cross for us. And because he did all this, the Father lifted him up.

Resurrection!

New Life.

Jesus is Lord -- the Lord of it all.

THE SECRET OF IT ALL

There it is -- the secret of it all. Being human like being God, we can have second thoughts. We can make changes -- significant changes.

We can have second thoughts and then surprise every one around us with new and better behavior.

Isn’t that the secret of a happy marriage? People start to do some thinking about their behavior. People start to have second thoughts. “Hey I can be better. I can give more of myself. I can start to serve rather than serving. I can start giving more than wanting to always get.”

Then the person does it. Surprise. Life. Resurrection. Exaltation.

That’s how people make it to their 25th, 30th, 40th wedding anniversary. Amen.

CONCLUSION

Let me give a small example to conclude this homily.

This is an example I saw in some book or a magazine somewhere. I used it a few times this year in our parish missions and I think someone said they also saw it somewhere. It’s a good example on second thoughts.

It goes something like this:

“Recently I witnessed a moment of deep soulfulness between two strangers. I was at a bus stop, sitting next to a woman reading a newspaper, but I was totally engrossed in the performance of a 14-year old boy on a skateboard. He had his baseball cap turned around with the bill in the back, and was skating beautifully and very fast. He buzzed by us once, then twice. When he came by a third time, he accidentally knocked the woman’s newspaper out of her hands. She said, ‘Oh, why don’t you grow up!’

“I watched him glide to the corner of the block, where he stood talking with his buddy. The two of them kept looking back over their shoulders at the woman. She hesitated for a moment, then rolled up her paper, tucked it under her arm and walked into the street, motioning to him. ‘Won’t you come here?’ she called. ‘I want to talk to you.’

“Very reluctantly, he skated over to her, turned his cap around with the bill in front, and said, ‘Yeah?’

“She said, ‘What I meant to say was that I was afraid that I might get hurt. I apologize for what I did say.’

“His face lit up, and he said, ‘How cool!’

“In that moment, I witnessed what is called in Spanish a milagro pequeno -- a small miracle. This small miracle was a holy, healing moment between generations, between two human beings who had just become important strangers to each other. The woman chose to shift the shape of her experience by moving out of reactivity to creativity. This kind of shape shifting is possible when we allow ourselves to speak directly from our soul.’” [1]

NOTES:

[1] p. 39 in Homiletics. From Angeles Arrien in “Walking the Mystical Path With Practical Feet,” in Nourishing the Souls, ed. Anne Simpkinson, Charles Simpkinson & Rose Solari,  (Harper San Francisco, 1995) p. 104
MARY ON 
A USUAL DAY



Poem  for Today - Sunday - September 28, 2014

FROM A WOMAN’S LIFE


What Mary knew was just
enough for the usual day;
pull water, flint fire, bake
bread, smile, pray

the dark orations, sleep, wake
wait. When pain honed a nerve,
when birth or dying clotted
an hour, she leaned to the curve

of living, resilient to fear
laughter suffering.
Partings are a little death.
Each one’s journey is a thing.

Wholly without precedent.
She looked at the sky
For compass. None. She, too,
Created a road to travel by.

© Maura Eichner
in Upholding Mystery
An Anthology
of Contemporary 
Christian Poetry,
edited by
David Impastato,
Oxford University
Press, Oxford,
New York, 1997,
Pages 362-363
PRESENT  ____  ABSENT ____

PLEASE  CHECK  ONE


Poem for Today - Saturday - September 27, 2014



FLICKERING MIND

Lord, not you,
it is I who am absent.
At first
belief was a joy I kept in secret,
stealing alone
into sacred places;
a quick glance, and away – and back,
circling.
I have long since uttered your name
but now
I elude your presence.
I stop to think about you, and my mind
at once
like a minnow darts away,
darts
into the shadows, into gleams that fret
unceasing over
the river's purling and passing.
Not for one second
will my self hold still, but wanders
anywhere,
everywhere it can turn. Not you,
it is I am absent.
You are the stream, the fish, the light,
the pulsing shadow,
you the unchanging presence, in whom all
moves and changes.
How can I focus my flickering,  perceive
at the fountain's heart
the sapphire I know is there?

© Denise Levertov, pages 122-123
in Upholding Mystery,
An Anthology of Contemporary
Christian Poetry, Edited by
David Impastato,
Oxford University Press,
New York, Oxford, 1997