Will we manifest
When I was young, many years ago, though it seems like yesterday; I thought I was in control, centered, strong and together. I don’t know how I thought this, it seems amazing that I could have been so callow, yet I was young after all. As the years pile up, so does my experience with myself, as well as with others, a lot of learning if the simple happenings of life are listened to.
I am not sure I have learned all that much, but I guess like most people I have learned some things and most of it is not all that pleasant.
In years past I thought I was free, I still believe that, though the limits of that freedom seem to shrink as I grow older. My limits seem to stare me in the face daring me to overcome them, to fly instead of being chained, as I often experience myself as being, bound indeed by heavy inner chains, some of them I know are self imposed.
The older I get the less I understand, well I guess it is just my own irrationality that seems to cause me confusion and pain. How there is so much in me that seems to not want to move forward, as if my inner prison is my natural state, even if I at times struggle to find some release from my inner bondage, yet have not yet done that. It is like the light in which I can see within only shows my own inner chaos, many voices competing against each other, though most I have learned not to listen to. Tapes really, round and round they go, so I either don’t listen, are at times I can simply dissolve them temporarily, though they never really go away.
I suppose one good thing about this is that I am not shocked by what goes on inside me; pain, yes I can feel that, yet slowly I am learning to come to some self acceptance, though not surrender about my own inner life; deep, rich, conflicted, seeking, bottomless it seems to me. It can be a struggle just to be a decent human being, at least on the surface.
Seeing what I am like in my inward reality, I am not surprised about what is going on in the world, it is just a mirror reflection of my own inner wars and revolutions that seem never to stop. I have no doubt that there are those who live peaceful inner lives, who are far ahead of me in my own inward path towards the light and I look up to them, hopefully one day I will reach the place where they are now, but it seems a long way off.
I seem to often be a bundle of compulsions and habits, and if I am not careful, I can go the whole day without a single thought in my head, just tapes and reactions and a heavy inertia that can weigh me down and make it impossible at times to even want to move forward, though I do cry out to God for help.
Yet I do not despair, for mercy is shown me, as it is all others who have to traverse this world, for we all have long weary journeys to make, seeking often that which does not satisfy, for once something is owned, bought, or accomplished it seems to hold our attention for a very short time; for desire is about something one wants not already has. I think I want something that I can have a relationship with but can never be owned, or fully understood, something wild, well yes the transcendent. It seems we are put into a world in which we are constantly in a state of seeking, desiring and thirsting, which always seem just around the corner or over the horizon.
I often think that I am a complete fake in my own spiritual path, yet what is mirrored back from those I love is something different. I honestly don’t know what to believe. I suppose when Jesus tells us not to judge, he also means we are not to judge ourselves. We need others to reflect back to us, both by how we judge them; also how they respond and judge us. Both friends and enemies are needed on our path, for without them we can either become inflated, or we sink deflated, both are illusions My love of self is not very deep, so it is the love that grace endows that carries me, it is needed on the path, for my love in limited, God’s is infinite, though it can be experienced as the exact opposite, or even non-existent to many. Yes the path for all I think is dark, though perhaps there are exceptions, and I am not one of them. It is better to let go of thoughts and beliefs about God than to cling to them, for it only increases the pain when they have to be dismantled.
Many have the mistaken notion that leading a God centered life will bring only peace and joy, yet often the opposite is what happens. There are a great many inner obstacles that are unconscious, unknown, that trip the seeker, that have to be brought up to the conscious mind if they can be disarmed. So the paradox is, conflict can increase, the understanding of ones lack of freedom has to be faced, responsibility taken, and to top it off, self hatred and contempt have to be seen, felt, accepted and healed, though the process is slow. Healing involves conflict, for nothing real can be accomplished unless it is worked though and not ran from. Jesus came to save the whole man, so healing goes deep, and takes time. Humility is truth, it can bring only freedom in the end, and the freedom from fear. For once the love of God is understood, fear begins to recede, though again growth for most people, I being a prime example, is very slow. Spotty actually most of the time, but because it is grace, in the end that leads us, even if hidden, the light of freedom slowly dawns as we all continue in our pilgrimage through life.
Yet even if hidden, joy is there. Joy is not an emotion, for they are smoke, they come and go often in rapid succession, both the pleasant and the painful. So what is joy? Well perhaps it is that which keeps us moving forward even in the midst of failure and apparent despair, perhaps that is what feeds hope; joy that is there but still unseen and felt. Perhaps joy is the very path we trod, though again the path often hidden.
I think anyone, no matter what their belief or lack thereof, when they seek to grow as a human being, to seek to love and be just, to reach out to others, will experience conflict. The road to freedom, or perhaps to a greater freedom is difficult. The only ones who don’t have conflict in their inner world, or those whose will is one with God’s, so they walk in true freedom of the children of God. Others, who have given themselves over to evil, which is perceived as a good, they have no conflict, they to are at peace, though it is of a different genus than those who follow the path of light. One leads to unity with others, the other leads to preying on others, chaos, disintegration. In the end, we all have a choice and only God truly knows who makes which one.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++
Will be manifest
Self knowledge brings on true freedom.
though the soul often bleeds and the heart screams out its despair,
still
the journey continues,
for below in the inner darkness grace is at work,
hidden,
for an idol cannot be made of the infinite for they must all be destroyed,
also,
our false sense of freedom and goodness is stripped away,
so that something deeper
truer
will surface,
for the fire of divine love will burn away all that is false,
until our true self which is our name that only God knows,
will be manifes
sad truth
03.30.08 (10:14 am) [edit]
sad truth
faith can give one hope,
it can also help destroy
when an idol it becomes;
an excuse for blood
what is it called
03.29.08 (3:37 pm) [edit] |  |
 |  |
what is it called
a weapon once made
must be baptized in blood,
human,
or perhaps animal,
it matters not
for weapons are made for killing,
both
for protection and for sport,
humans being hunted is a form of entertainment for many,
our news presents it to us every night,
with beautiful
men
and
women
giving us the scoop,
reporting mayhem and death
then
a commercial break
asking us to be real and unique
by drinking
Coke,
or be different and shopping at a nation wide clothing company,
the clothes,
the beverage of those hip,
beautiful,
and of course forever young,
we have nip and tuck
for that,
old women wanting to look young
and men join the mindless march to absurdity,
as if
death could be postponed;
live to a hundred
or
die at 20
perhaps in the end it does not matter,
our lives a mere instant
compared to eternity or the age of the universe,
yes we are violent,
I am,
I also love to watch violence at times,
it speaks to something very primitive and primeval,
it feels right,
though in my inner most being
I know this is not true,
for we kill ourselves with our addictions,
we court self destruction
never learning,
not from history
nor how others play out their lives,
we can desire
what we know in the end will destroy us;
perhaps that is sin,
what we are imprisoned into,
though in the end
we would not want to escape if we could.
so our need for salvation,
as I get older
makes more and more sense,
for it seems that we are lost in a maze of our own making,
with this exception
the joke being,
though I am not laughing,
is there is no way out,
we need
help.
It is called grace
Inner rigidity
03.29.08 (12:07 pm) [edit] | |
| |
Inner rigidity
the lack of thinking,
or questioning,
can lead to such a fear of doubt,
that only
the suffocating environment
of surety
allowed to enter
eternal sleep
03.29.08 (8:01 am) [edit] | |
| |
eternal sleep
the surf rushing upon it
its sleep undisturbed
implosion
03.28.08 (5:47 pm) [edit] | |
| |
implosion
the pressures of life increase
something has to give
Truth
03.28.08 (10:00 am) [edit] | |
| |
Truth
Whatever comes into my mind is not true.
I accept that reality,
however,
below rationality
the opposite is shown to be the truth in this matter,
there is a region that is really in control,
the emotional,
feelings,
that make objective thought difficult,
perhaps impossible,
who after all is objective?
It is a struggle to be rational,
just look at the world around us,
the wars,
the hatred against those outside,
of course
we are all outside to someone,
hence
we are all hated and feared by some others,
so a circle formed,
of fear
hatred,
and prejudices,
leading us deeper and deeper
into chaos
and perhaps annihilation.
Perhaps
what Jesus said is the most rational way,
that of forgiveness,
love,
placing no one outside
the outcast non-existent ,
in reality we are all really one body,
to hurt another
is to hurt oneself,
to hate
is in reality to hate oneself,
what is done to another is really done to self,
perhaps
Christ is really in the least,
in the outcast,
the one hated,
where contempt is piled on,
what if Christ
is the outcast of outcast
no others are needed,
only love?
Impossible perhaps
yet something to be strived for surely
for if not
we will reap the whirlwind.
Or perhaps it has already begun.
Do not cling
03.27.08 (3:45 pm) [edit]
Do not cling
His mother ill in the hospital
very sick and he is going crazy
not knowing what to do,
so he calls the doctor excepting an answer,
when often the only answer is one he does not want to hear;
she is old
winding down though slowly,
doctors can only do so much in any circumstance
the process cannot be stopped,
for we all wear out,
the journey often grueling,
cruel in its intensity and the helplessness felt.
The doctors and nurses
have seen it all before and so they listen
and try to help,
yet not in ways wanted
for no assurances can be given,
they never can.
In the end we are all backed into a corner
our bodies betray us
dying slowly and cannot be brought back,
though,
perhaps for a time,
the end can be forestalled
the time and place unknown
yet death
will surely come.
Our loved ones
parents,
brothers and sisters,
yes friends
will all one day make that slow journey
to that corner
where when there is no place to turn,
it is then their time
to say their goodbyes if they can,
leaving a void
that can never be filled
though hopefully healed slowly as time flows by.
We so take each other for granted
thinking we have all the time in the world,
yet we don’t,
for the young as well as the old pass on,
some quickly,
others like the old,
a slow painful journey
for all.
So love those you love,
tell them so,
embrace them
but do not cling,
for some things are not possible,
dust we are
we all slip through in time.
Only shatter more
03.26.08 (5:21 pm) [edit] | |
| |
Only shatter more
The human heart is deeply split;
for some shattered would be the better word,
desiring
that which is harmful,
deadly,
to oneself
and especially to others.
Neither reason perhaps one hope,
nor counsel,
can change its course once set,
for Thanatos
is active and well
gorged to the full on our propensities,
leading to havoc in a world slowly going mad.
Love is talked about,
yet if it is no more than a sentiment,
then truly our hearts,
as the long march of history progresses,
will
only shatter more.
wandering
03.26.08 (9:27 am) [edit]
the soul often wanders in dry lands, |
Fear does not work
03.25.08 (6:50 pm) [edit] | |
| |
Fear does not work
When young I was taught about sin,
a mark on the soul,
a stain,
perhaps leading to death
separation
from God for all eternity.
Confession,
a way to placate
a deity angry,
always watching;
my image of God at that young age
was of a being
with millions of eyes
attached to long tentacles
watching everything
no place
to
hide.
A fearful time for me I guess
dealing with a monster of sorts observing me
at all times.
At night I was afraid to sleep
lest I should die.
When a teenager
things got worse for me,
though for some reason I remained devout;
there was more than fear,
love
was also present in my seeking God
yet
there was some oppression.
As a young adult
I started to rethink things,
since the concept of sin I was taught
did not seem
to have much to do with my life,
my journey,
it seemed to hinder,
for in the end
when all things are considered,
fear
does not work
never has nor will it ever,
for fear
causes self absorption,
scruples,
for some a terrible affliction,
no peace possible to find with God;
as a child
I suffered from that for a short time
but out grew it
perhaps a grace.
In a world fallen,
broken,
twisted by our many wounds,
it is only natural and to be accepted
that teaching about God
will also
be
of images shattered,
incomplete,
based more on human insecurities
than on what is actually revealed in Scriptures
To accept oneself as a sinner
that leads to positive understanding of oneself,
ones relationship with others
and yes the world,
can lead one to being rooted in reality
where
we are responsible
yet
incapable of breaking the hold sin as on us,
it leads to a calling out,
not in fear
but in a longing to be free.
Even our falls will only deepen that longing,
that desire for true life,
a deeper
trust
in the God revealed in scriptures,
who
walks with us in our journeys,
forgiving,
healing,
and yes pursuing,
grace always there for those who seek it
ask for it
accept it .
Those who don’t,
well
it is not for us to judge
but
we are all called
to show love and compassion
for we are all
brothers and sisters on the way,
falling,
getting up,
and perhaps falling over and over again
but we have a God of infinite mercy and understanding
and
we are all called
to
become merciful through grace
towards all.
Do not judge
is a commandment,
just as to love ourselves as we do others
is one also,
so look up and see the light
forget self
stop measuring
just believe and abandon yourself to infinite love
pray for all.
As a Christian
Jesus is for me the revelation of the Father
for the world,
yet
is Christ not God,
and has not God been at work in the world
from the beginning
until now
and will be until the end,
the day and hour that no one knows
only
the Father knows.
Fear not
it is useless
judge not
a waste of time.
the wall
03.25.08 (1:58 pm) [edit] | |
| |
the wall
between them high and thick
though they could see one another clearly,
it was the words that caused the divide to grow,
no language to express what each felt,
or even believed,
so their misconceptions merely grew
until nothing left
but the wall standing silent in the night.
it's gift
03.25.08 (11:44 am) [edit] | |
| |
it's gift
its gift,
is not appreciated
until the bottom is hit
and it is still offered,
free,
a gift.
Easter Vigil
03.23.08 (9:14 am) [edit]
| |
Easter Vigil
+++++++++++++++++
Before
Before the beginning there was naught,
perhaps something impossible to comprehend,
no space nor time,
there was not even nothing
for that would imply the opposite,
something,
even speaking of the void
does not encompass what the before wasn’t
it just was not.
++++++++++++++++++
Then
The word spoken,
light,
pulsating outward,
universe expanding ever faster
its momentum
continuing into the far future;
time frame staggering in its fulfillment.
++++++++++++++++++
The Tomb
Within the body lying
wrapped in its linen shroud
there was only emptiness,
nothingness,
blackness,
cold,
no time nor space,
soulless,
like the universe will one day be,
all stillness,
void,
heat death its fate.
Holy Saturday
03.22.08 (8:20 am) [edit]
Holy Saturday
Carved into rock the tomb stood waiting,
the body wrapped in linen tight
with spices;
according to Jewish law.
A stone rolled before the entrance,
within only darkness,
silence,
that only death can bring,
the interior cold
the body alone in its inner nothingness
The void,
the thing feared most,
to drop in
never to be seen again,
gone,
leaving only an interior emptiness
for those left behind.
In the beginning light,
heat death for the universe in the end;
so for the body,
what was once alive
now without heat only cold remaining,
lifeless.
All that we love ends,
our works,
art,
our loved ones,
friends,
civilizations,
brought to absurdity because of this,
the great crumbling,
entropy,
flowers of the field,
the whole universe slowly fading
into it’s ending,
length of time does not matter
for in the end nothing.
So within silence,
only cold and deep darkness for company,
it is just a tomb after all,
yet
a guard placed before its entrance,
which gives us pause
why a guard at the tomb(?),
perhaps,
just perhaps,
we need to wait in the silence and see.
Blog: Hitchens vs. Hedges; Atheist vs. Believer Clash Ignit
03.21.08 (6:38 pm) [edit] |  |  |
|
Good Friday
03.21.08 (8:33 am) [edit]
Good Friday
Long the journey was not
from Pilates chair of judgment
to the place of the skull,
the pain endured however beyond human knowing,
body torn with lashes,
head deeply wounded by sharp thorns,
blood pouring into his eyes,
face beaten black and blue beyond recognition,
the continued jeering
mocking,
being spit upon,
the soul shattering thirst from the great loss of blood,
the short sorrowful encounter with his loving suffering mother,
mercy incarnate shown no mercy;
slowly moving,
stumbling,
falling three times
getting up
a crawl more than a walk,
finally,
the place of the skull,
stripped naked before all to see
truly a cause of shame,
the terrible nails
ripping into his wrist and feet,
the hanging,
fighting for breathe,
grasping in deep all consuming pain,
then after three long hours
death.
The cold dark tomb awaits,
the body cold,
wrapped,
no time for herbs and spices,
for the Sabbath comes.
Holy Thursday
03.20.08 (8:42 am) [edit]
Holy Thursday
Together they gathered for Passover,
for his followers
it was what they have always done in the past,
not knowing that something different was about to be implemented,
so
as Jesus watched
seeing those he loved and cherished,
filled with a loneliness that no other could bear,
knowing that soon
very soon,
one would betray,
another perhaps worse in its way,
would deny,
the others flee abandoning him to his fate,
for fear can drain the bravest of men of their courage,
this he knew,
for the hearts of men were an open book to him,
yet he loved.
For
he could not protect himself with anger,
nor hatred,
no walls could he build up around his heart of infinite depth,
apathy not available to numb,
no,
he could only love even if it meant his death.
For to hate,
seeking revenge,
rage,
is defeat in the face of evil,
feeding only the fire that fuels the cycle.
+++++++++++++
The meal
So simple
bread and wine
the common food of common people,
so everyday,
yet a staple needed for life.
He took the bread,
broke it,
the wine also in its simple cup,
saying,
this is my body,
broken
for you for the remission of sin
and blood,
eat in remembrance of what I am about to do.
Perhaps a little bewildered
they ate and drank.
After Judas left into the outer darkness to do his work,
Jesus arose,
their Rabbi whom they loved and respected,
he knelt before each one
washing their feet and drying them,
an act of gracious humility
by their teacher,
serving them
hoping that they would understand.
Knowing what lay ahead he loved them to the end,
having only compassion for what was to come,
for he understood the depth of human weakness,
forgiving before it all happened,
for love cannot hate nor seek revenge,
such is it strength,
seen by many as weakness,
for over and over again we seek to right things
by the irrational and destructive,
for the cycle can only be broken by love,
perhaps a lesson we will never learn yet the yeast there,
slowly bringing forth
the kingdom of God.
+++++++++++++
The Garden
Alone in the garden leaning upon a rock,
his followers asleep
not understanding what was coming,
the shivering in fear
the sweating of blood caused by the depth of anxiety,
the prayer of surrender
“not my will but yours be done”;
the kiss of betrayal done in mockery,
“hail Rabbi”;
the fleeing of the apostles,
alone to be mocked by his captors,
slapping,
spitting and mocking,
the illegal trial held in the dead of night,
the lies,
then the affirmation
“it is you who say I am”,
the denial of Peter before the cock crowed three times,
then a night in prison,
with only the dankness of the cold cell for comfort,
alone,
alone,
alone,
until the Friday dawns,
all night before his eyes what awaits him in the morning.
Wednesday of Holy Week
03.19.08 (8:13 am) [edit]
Wednesday of Holy Week
Did Jesus understand,
did he know the fate,
just around the corner stalking him,
he was fully human after all,
true the Word,
yet
he did grow in wisdom and knowledge.
From what he said the answer seems to be yes,
so the day before it began
perhaps his soul was already sweating blood
long before the garden.
Was he pensive,
did he show anxiety,
did his friends and followers see a difference,
or out of love
did he keep it to himself
sparing them for as long as possible
before his deep,
painful,
journey towards death began.
Anticipation can be a greater suffering,
as the blood in the garden
pouring down is face seems to testify.
The love present that allowed such a thing to happen,
knowing,
yet walking towards it,
is something beyond my ability to comprehend,
to give oneself up,
to embrace
betrayal from a loved one,
abandonment from those trusted and depended upon,
to be tortured,
mocked,
and to die a horrible death
naked before all
is something before which I am lost,
for he carried the death of us all to the place of pain,
showing us our situation,
and
yes again
forgiving those who betrayed,
tortured,
mocked,
abandoned,
for in this drama we each are shown a part of our journey,
our lives,
how we fail and how we don’t,
yet in the end
it is mercy given to all
by a love that took upon itself our souls,
our wounds,
sins,
in loving mercy.
Soon the drama will begin
Tuesday of Holy Week
03.18.08 (9:22 am) [edit] | |
| |
Tuesday of Holy Week
There is an inner coldness,
A deep emptiness that comes upon me this time of the year,
Perhaps it is the radiating darkness
From the occupied tomb of Holy Saturday,
An ending known,
The ending of us all
A tomb waiting after our own passion,
Ending in the bleakness of death.
Beyond that day of burial
When the stone is rolled before,
A lifeless prison,
Symbol of death’s hold on mankind
Is something I can’t move beyond
During this Week of the Holy.
Betrayal, suffering, alone-ness,
Blocking at times any joy or light,
Is not this Holy Saturday
And all that led up to it?
Gut wrenching pain,
Heart freezing evil,
Is mankind’s daily bread
The milk we suck on
All infected by its poison.
Innocence destroyed day by day,
Our children abused,
Killed,
Women beaten,
Raped,
Wars unending
Young men and women killing and being killed,
The Thanatos principle in full bloom
Its power seeming absolute,
So yes during Holy Week this looms
Rising up freezing my heart
Forcing me to focus what is before
Forgetting what comes after,
For darkness, pain, suffering, angst
Can for a time block out all else.
Amidst it all is something deeper,
Perhaps even at times more terrifying
confronts me;
The love stronger than death,
Willing to go though anything
Suffer any pain,
Rejection
For the sake of the beloved,
Yes that can be the most terrifying.
For my heart is little,
Cold,
Often stone like it its response
To the divine,
Yet it seeks us all,
Woos,
And in the end seduces to the truth
Of what I often forget
For I can’t see beyond Holy Saturday.
So my response is an inner cold
Like a dark well
Rising higher and higher
Yet I never drown or sink below it surface,
For mercy sustains me
It’s root,
Love.
Outcast
03.17.08 (6:20 pm) [edit] | |
| |
Outcast
At times I get weary about who and what I am,
what we are as a species,
how we need to struggle to just be rational,
yet often controlled by our deep sub-conscious,
lip surface to a path chosen,
yet in reality
often
possibly forced by inner forces
to act otherwise,
yet the will remains
the desire to do better alive
though failure is often the fruit of striving,
both
for the individual and the collective.
Yet we are free
how much perhaps less than we think,
yet more than some actually believe,
so perhaps at times feeling a little despair of the situation
is understandable;
I hate it when I get in one of my dark moods about humanity
for in reality it is about me,
my own irrationality and yes evil
so easy turned aside,
yet
what is it that keeps me,
us,
the human species going?
I often wonder without my faith what would I be?
perhaps the worst of nihilist,
one who drinks despair like others down a beer
in long thirsty gulps,
embracing the void in some surrender to a obscene political agenda,
the false belief
that somehow we can overcome our biology,
the instincts the propel us forward day by day into acts of evil and horror;
at time I barely hold on with faith
yet
it does sustain me
knowing that truly we are loved
for perhaps God loves the outcast for the very reason
that we are in fact that,
outcast.
The great forgiving
03.16.08 (8:59 am) [edit] | |
| |
The great forgiving
There are some who tell me that they love Holy Week,
who am I to disagree with them if that is so,
in my opinion they are lucky to have that feeling,
for me however,
all I can say if truth be told,
is
I hate Holy Week,
my soul feels like lead,
heavy,
perhaps it is pain,
but I get to the point where I just want it to be over
while my teeth grind
as I seek to bear the dark oppression of the passion.
Perhaps it is because Holy Week is about the human condition
what is most feared
or perhaps what I most fear
and seek to flee from.
Abandonment by those I trust,
betrayal of loved ones,
to be abused
physically
and
emotionally,
mocked and dealt with contempt,
to be discounted,
perhaps
this is why I hate Holy Week,
for the passion
deals with what is dreaded by me in my inner depths often hidden,
but
during holy week it comes out parading before me
my fears of what the future holds;
my own inability to see or prevent what will be.
Jesus embraced it though not without great pain and sacrifice
while I run and seek to hide,
from what I fear more than death,
for death
is simply that,
an ending,
the passion however,
Jesus’ death was pure in your face horror and terror.
All levels affected by what happened,
the sweating of blood,
the beating when arrested
in which he did not defend himself,
the scourging,
cat o nine tails an instrument of genius
three for the price of one when it came to pain,
ripping into flesh,
flaying without mercy,
then
the crowning of thorns,
the mocking of his divinity by those who did not know or understand,
being rejected
while a murderer being chosen instead of the innocent one,
the cross beam,
the falling and rising again,
the meeting of his mother on the way,
the nails,
thirst,
body stretched,
suffocation and the pushing up to breathe
which only doubled the pain and suffering involved,
thirst,
the vinegar
and
most heart breaking of all,
the great forgiving
of those who caused all of this,
a forgiving that encompassed all of mankind,
from the distant past,
to the present
and the far flung future,
then finally when no more could be born by his abused body,
blessed death,
a cold tomb,
the body no longer feels nor suffers
so yes
no wonder I hate Holy Week
for our own lives are somehow lived out by the Word made Flesh,
Jesus becoming what we love to do,
find a scapegoat,
well we did,
he was it
and now
there is no more need for a scapegoat,
yet that lesson not yet learned by a species slow and irrational,
yet perhaps the miracles of miracles,
loved
by the infinite.
I fear the passion in my own life
in a world where justice is never achieved really,
where the innocent suffer,
are tortured,
killed,
along with the guilty,
though in this world the innocent suffer more
their numbers greater by legion,
with little compassion or empathy from others
apathy a good defense against pain,
yes that is what Passion Week is for me and I dread its coming every year.
The word
taking on what is often fled from by me,
showing me my soul
stretched on the cross wounded by my sin,
seeking only one thing
to forgive
for we know what we do.
Mercy beyond all telling
03.15.08 (9:24 am) [edit]
Upon the cross
as he hung in pain,
between two thieves,
one who mocked
the other more humble,
his body racked with pain unimaginable,
betrayed by his apostles,
who like cowards fled.
One betraying,
another denying,
the others hidden in fear,
something really not so hard to understand,
for the heart of man is divided,
conflicted,
anything is possible;
so in the end he was abandoned,
left alone by his own.
True John was there,
yet being very young
I feel it was the strength of the women
who allowed him to stand there
in their presence,
as they stood before the crucified
nailed and hanging before them;
not afraid to show their love and loyalty
to the one who suffered above.
In seeing all before him
knowing that very soon he must depart
he gasp one last time and said or prayed:
for they know not what they do”.
So the Sermon on the Mount was about Jesus;
his nature.
Love,
compassion and empathy,
for our human condition
is what he felt.
For it is he who turns the other cheek,
who returns good for evil,
loving his enemies
even if it leads to death.
Seeing deep into our souls,
to its very depth,
he loves,
understands in ways we cannot;
thus shows mercy.
Reading the sermon on the mount
and looking into my own heart
I see that I cannot live it,
though I strive,
fall,
get up and fail again,
perhaps at times becoming God’s enemy.
Yet he allows the rain and sun
to fall on the good as well as the evil
showing no partiality,
that is man’s way,
to judge who is worthy
and who is not.
So upon the cross what is revealed?
Is it not my own soul,
the souls of each (?) ,
wounded,
flayed to the bone,
nailed,
by what we call sin,
the chains that bind us
that only love can heal.
For loves power is a paradox,
it takes root in being powerless,
not feeding into our collective rage,
seeking scapegoats,
for Christ is the Scapegoat,
a task he freely embraced
to free us from the bondage of our chains
in the freedom of the children of light,
whom open to grace,
allowing what is not earned
to be given,
mercy beyond all telling.
Our inner world often chaotic,
bound by our times and culture,
so blinded,
trapped,
a rough prison perceived as truth,
in which only mercy can break through.
and if given,
with struggle mighty,
slow,
for mercy is not mercy if earned,
that is our struggle;
it is a gift,
one hard to bestow,
but easy to receive from others
Hoping against hope
03.14.08 (3:22 pm) [edit] | |
| |
Hoping against hope
all posturing put aside
our life is about mystery
so we take one step after another
do the best we can
and then we die,
yet perhaps there is more
that our hoping against hope
Like sand
03.13.08 (6:51 pm) [edit]
each day faster than the one before,
years spin,
speeding up
as if our life was on a track
going round and round,
faster,
and faster,
until one day we simply stop,
either slowly
or with a sudden intensity,
in any-case
we all end ,
how perhaps does not matter,
embrace the days and nights
for we are truly flowers of the field,
born,young,old,die,
lives,
each passing
like sand running though our fingers.
hidden within
03.13.08 (1:49 pm) [edit]
|
|
|
|
to wander off human,
to get up over and over again
and begin the journey anew
is true bravery for sure;
perhaps a response to grace
hidden within the fabric of failure.
Simply that
03.13.08 (12:02 pm) [edit]Simply that infinite love
 | |
| |
Love is simply that,
when infinite,
it is a mighty river
flowing from my heart into yours,
your sins I forgive,
when you fall I lift you up
for your are precious to me
for I know your name,
unknown to all others.
Despair and self contempt,
the guilt that cripples
is from your own heart,
which my infinite love
slowly heals.
My love cannot be understood,
yet it can be experienced,
so slowly I lead you,
at all times I pursue you
up and down the mountain
of your sins,
also along the wrong paths taken.
All are loved by me,
each unique,
I relate to each differently;
no one is outside,
it is you who make that judgment,
for in the depths all are free,
my respect for freedom
like my love
is infinite.
To say yes to me
is an act of perfect freedom,
to say no
the same.
everything
03.12.08 (5:08 pm) [edit]
 | |
| |
love freely given
yet it cost one everything
self protection gone
Slow morning walk
03.12.08 (9:01 am) [edit] | |
| |
Slow morning walk
The stars seemed to be within reach
so clear was the sky,
no clouds
nor mist
to lessen vision of the beauty above,
the silence
and the gentle flow of the wind
only added to the peace felt,
giving refuge to a soul tired and weary,
yet joyful
in the beauty that surrounded,
or perhaps,
accompanied,
on my slow morning walk.
The waiting
03.11.08 (7:07 pm) [edit]
 | |
| |
The waiting
If you can be quiet enough,
attain an inner calm,
it is the reality of waiting,
of just being
that comes to consciousness,
though for what,
well,
perhaps that is the question.
Being busy is a way of losing that awareness,
the absurdity of life
apart from the silent waiting
below the churning thoughts
fears,
and anxieties.
Is it death that calls us,
or perhaps something too good to be true,
perhaps our longings,
our deepest ones,
are spot on,
we are made for that love we seek
in all our restless wanderings,
failures,
and yes triumphs.
Yes perhaps we are loved
in a way we each dream of,
but have not yet achieved,
yes,
what if we are truly pursued,
infinite love seeking us all out,
breaking down the barriers
the walls we build,
until we finally surrender
to what we all seek,
though perhaps repress
in our ignorance.
Raw places
03.11.08 (8:39 am) [edit] | |
| |
Raw places
Perhaps it is in the raw places,
Where blood flows
The skin torn and bleeding,
When pain comes,
Reasons for unanswered.
Perhaps,
This is where the Christ lives,
In our depths,
Our doubts,
Far away from pious feelings,
Fuzzy emotions,
In the gut wrenching moments
God shows us the cross.
Jesus form stretched out,
Nailed,
Body pierced by man’s hatred,
Desire for power,
Compassion lacking for the weak,
For those considered outcast by others,
With those outside was Jesus placed.
For life is hard,
Sin is a way of seeking to hide
To protect from the harsh realities
That yes all also suffer.
Our rage,
Hurt,
Lashing out at others
And yes at God,
walls built up
Keeping compassion,
empathy,
at bay.
God has no such protection,
For truth
Is vision naked,
Transparent,
It cannot hide from what it sees,
Nor can infinite love retreat
Protecting itself.
In anger and rage
For in its rawness Christ feels all,
Knows all,
Seeks all,
And yes mystery beyond telling,
Loves all.
My soul is often raw,
My wounds deep,
My struggle the same as others,
So I seek to protect myself
Unlike God
From reality.
At times sinking into forgetfulness
About life;
That I am a pilgrim
The journey short soon to end,
Yet I fool myself
Thinking,
I am here forever,
What is told me is true
What is important told me by others,
Yet,
In opposition to what Jesus has said,
That in the end only love matters.
The love that dies to self
Allowing something larger to unfold,
Take root,
Grow,
Embracing the whole world,
Knowing,
That Jesus is found in the least,
And aren’t we all least for someone,
Do we not all experience contempt,
Hatred,
Discounting from others,
Some experience this more than others.
Yet only once is enough
To plant the seed of compassion for others,
To allow the understanding of who
And what Christ is,
One who identifies with us,
Each,
The rich and poor,
The powerful and weak,
He calls us all out of our prison
Of self regard
Into the mind and heart of Christ.
Infinite light,
Joy,
Understanding,
Is what we are called to,
The way a paradox itself
The ground underneath
Our surety
Constantly taken away.
For the light filled
Dark road of faith.
all lies
03.10.08 (7:37 pm) [edit] | |
| |
speaking of the past,
eloquent in it's denunciation of the present,
painting black the future;
all lies.
for hope,
speaks quietly,
in a whisper,
to listen allows life to flourish again,
for despair has no root,
it is only a dream,
loosing site of what our life is about,
to perhaps
simply,
though not simple to live out,
to grow in trust
and yes most important of all,
love.
asleep
03.10.08 (10:54 am) [edit] | |
| |
our minds often asleep,
lost in our inner world of dreams
mistaken for reality,
yet only subjectivity in action
keeping the ability to listen,
learn,
and to understand the other
very difficult
perhaps in many cases impossible.
if only
03.10.08 (8:26 am) [edit] | |
| |
would the world be soaked in blood,
children abused
and wife's beaten?
No we are sunk in irrationality
striving mightily to think clearly,
yet,
our desires,
subjectivity,
and yes our evil
keeps us imprisoned
within our own souls.
truth and lies
03.09.08 (7:32 pm) [edit] | |
| |
only to build up again,
lies destroy
leaving only despair
subterfuge
03.09.08 (1:58 pm) [edit] | |
| |
subterfuge
Perhaps we are all fooled by our lies,
others seeing through our subterfuge
yet saying nothing,
what is known by them
could wound us deeply
ego's can be fragile.
Unmasked
03.09.08 (9:59 am) [edit]
Unmasked
Slowly the skin is peeled back,
the ego faced with its nakedness,
before unknown,
though a desire to flee from self revelation present,
its futility understood,
for once shown,
to retrace is impossible;
when blindness lost,
no matter how precious,
gone forever,
the darkness no longer a refuge from the gift presented.
Sharp and true is the two edged knife of self knowledge,
wounding the soul deeply;
anxieties,
pain,
unstable,
fearful of the truth once the mask torn away,
screaming,
anger rising to the surface in self protection;
all useless for the wound cannot not be,
once aware it can only heal in the crucible of suffering and courage.
Unending layers of skin that need to be peeled,
self deception a common currency,
over and over again laid bare for the light of truth to burn away,
Each an awakening,
to a world strange,
yet not so,
for only bigger,
and once the wound heals,
better;
though it happens over and over again,
until self deception gone forever.
So many layers,
a multitude of awakenings,
a mercy the process slow.
Mirrors all around,
yet the reflection often not understood,
until the times comes when ready,
if not,
then too early can be a slide into further ruin,
to be unmask too soon can be a death indeed,
from which one may not recover.
For a time
03.08.08 (8:32 am) [edit] | |
| |
For a time
Spring is starting to move in here,
trees giving birth to their blossoms
the night coming alive with the sound of crickets
and yes other critters as well.
Soon very soon
bird song will fill the air
and for a time,
hope of new beginnings
will also come to flower;
such is the gift of spring
for the many
if not all.
our lives
03.07.08 (6:36 pm) [edit] | |
| |
our lives
we live lives of chance,
God allows our world to be free
though in our heart dwelling
accompanying us on our journey.
set one free
03.07.08 (9:01 am) [edit] | |
| |
set one free
Without self love
there is not the strength,
to accept the truth
that will set one free.