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Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!

Arthur Darby Nock

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Elizabeth Browning



Thursday, February 5, 2026

The lesson today is love

… religion didn’t create hate, hate found voice in religion

          John Fugelsang

 

The politics of Jesus and the politics of God are that people should be fed, that people have access to life, that people should be treated equally and justly.

          Rev. James Lawson Jr.

 

______________________________

 

The Word of the Lord

The Word of God for the people of God

The Word of the Lord to us

 

Really?

 

There is a reason Jesus asked the question

“Why do you call me Lord, Lord, but do not do what I say?”

 

Or perhaps the better question is

Why do we take the words of the Bible

And use them in a way that violates the very nature of God

As revealed in Jesus

 

Who is, after all

The Word

 

Why do people hear the words from the Word

“Love thy neighbor.”

And immediately ask if their neighbor is “legal.”

 

Nuke, in the movie Bull Durham, reflecting on baseball, says,

"This is a very simple game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains." Think about that for a while.”

 

Jesus, the Word, in reflecting on the jumble of words contained in the Law and the Prophets, said,

“This is a very simple faith.  You love God, you love yourself in a healthy way, and then you go out and love the people around you.  All of them.  Keep it simple.”

 

 

But we human creatures have muddled it up.

 

God says, “Welcome all.”

We say, “You’re welcome, IF.”

 

God says, “It is not about merit, it is about grace.”

We create a merit-based system

 

God says, “Love all.”

We don’t

(well at least I don’t)

 

God says, “I love you.”

We say, “I wonder if I have been good enough for God to love me.”

 

God says, “Feed the hungry, give water to the thirsty, house the homeless, welcome, comfort and take care of the stranger (the way I have welcomed, comforted and taken care of you),” and all too many of us, and an entire political party say, “Mass Deportations Now.”

 

God says, “Suffer the little children to come to me.”

Which means “there is a special place for children in  the heart of God, so draw them close, protect, nurture, teach and love them”

 

And we say “I think it is worth some children (maybe a lot of children) so that we can have the Second Amendment.

And we detain five year olds

And take away SNAP funding

And kill USAID, thus killing (so it is estimated) 500,000 children in one year.

 

Death by neglect

 

Instead of saying “God forgive us” as hate, division and violence swirl

We say “They should have obeyed.” 

And we turn people into “domestic terrorists”

 

It seems as if what God asks of us is simple

But not easy

 

Speaking of children…

 

Jesus also said, “Become like little children, or you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

 

The kingdom will never come,

Until we let God love us, comfort us, feed us, teach us, embrace us

The way the “best parent ever” loves their little child

(That is even hard to imagine, because we have messed parenting up too)

 

And until with the simplicity of a child

We keep it simple

 

And love God, have a healthy love of self, and then o out and love the people around us.  All of them.  

Sunday, February 1, 2026

The fire of love

In the bitter cold

The looming darkness

A fire burns

Flames licking at the tamarack

Reducing it to ashes

 

That is the thing about fire.

It changes

That which it touches

It sears and smelts

 

We draw near the fire, lingering,

But dare not draw too close

We need it, desire it, fear it

 

That which warms and illuminates

Also destroys

 

I think, in the warming cold,

Of Moses, feet frozen to the ground,

Watching the bush that burns, but

Is not consumed

 

That fire drew him in

Irresistible

Transformative

Into the presence of the One who is

undefinable

Into dialogue with Sacred

 

Fire of God

Flickering off the dry branches

Dancing on the heads of dry people

Not devouring, reducing,

 

But inspiring

 

I think too of those fires raging

In dark streets, harbingers of destruction

Signs of violence 

Destroying

 

Fires raging in human souls,

Consuming

Burning away not the dross

But the essence of who we are

 

pushing us away from presence

with the heat of hate and fear

 

May I burn Lord

Not with the fire of hate

Destroying all around me

But with the fire of love

Holy Fire, Angel Fire

 

Fire of God

Fill my ordinary being

With your extraordinary love

 

That through me the flame of

Your love will burn in the darkness

 

May the flame dance within me, proclaiming your presence

May love rage within my soul

Drawing others close so you can touch them

The flames flickering out

 

Setting them on fire

With your love

 

Creating a backfire of love

That extinguishes the fire of hate

Thursday, January 29, 2026

Prayers from the dark side

Lamentation prayer is when we sit and speak out to God and one another—stunned, sad, and silenced by the tragedy and absurdity of human events. It might actually be the most honest form of prayer. It takes great trust and patience … so I think it is actually profound prayer, but most of us have not been told that we could, or even should, “complain” to God. I suspect we must complain like Job, Judith, and Jeremiah, or we do not even know what to pray for, or how to pray. Or we do not suffer the necessary pain of this world, the necessary sadness of being human. 

          Rohr

_____________________________________

 

It is more than sorrow and pain

This cry that rises out of my soul

More than grief and regret

 

It is born in all of those rays of darkness

That gather and surround me like fetid fog

Smothering me with a darkness

That presses my soul until

I cry out in

Lament

 

It rises out of a perichoresis dance of foulness

replacing indwelling love

with fear and hate,

anger and resentment,

sorrow, grief, and regret

 

demanding an incarnation

forming into words

that want to be released into the universe

so they might be heard by someone, anyone

heard by God.

 

Sometimes it feels awkward

This lament

 

It seems more prudent to give God the silent treatment.

Who wants to look bad to God (as if)?

Who wants to have it out with the Holy?

 

But there are those, our ancestors in the faith,

Who have taught us better

 

If they felt God had been neglectful, abusive, or an absentee parent

They complained

If they felt oppressed by others

They asked God to release holy hell on their enemies

In the midst of an unjust world, they cried for justice

In their pain, they cried for comfort

 

When they felt guilt and shame,

They asked for forgiveness

Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa

 

They pleaded with God for rescue

And came to God in penitence.

It can’t be just one or the other

 

This was not a sign of faithlessness.

Instead, their laments were proof that they took God's promises seriously.

 

Where to start, O Beloved

It is overwhelming

Really

The evil in this world

 

It is overwhelming

The scope of my failure to reflect your image

 

Do I start with the pain and grief of seeing

Renee Good and Alex Pretti

Shot

Like Kristi Noem’s dog

 

Not precious souls,

Merely nuisances to be removed

 

Do I cry out over the brutality of ICE

As they violently seek to take the strangers

From our mist?

Do I anguish over the poor and hungry,

The forgotten people?

Or express my grief over a nation

Dying from the inside out?

 

I have my own regrets.

Words spoken and written

People harmed or neglected

 

I have that hard knot of hate

That grows in my soul

My desire for retribution

My inability to forgive, or give

 

I am angry, sad, hurting, questioning, doubting, and regretful

How do I express that?

How do I send it winging toward heaven?

 

Lord, hear my prayer.

Hear my words of joy as the sun paints the sky

Hear my expressions of wonder as the mountain

Snuggles under a layer of new snow

 

Hear my words of petition for others, and for myself

Hear my pleas for help as I face another Sunday

When I am somehow supposed to reflect your truth.

 

But I know my prayer is incomplete without lament

I know I need to sit and speak to You.

Sit, stunned, saddened, and silenced by the tragedy and absurdity of the world.

Sit with all my feelings, all

And then offer them to you

 

An act of faith, really

Lament is my way of saying that I believe you care

That I believe you are love

That I believe you keep your promises

 

And you promise to be with me, always.

 

Lament is my way of saying that you, too

Were on the streets of Minneapolis

And that Renee and Alex were not alone

 

That you are with Liam Conejo Ramos

And all the other children, brutalized

Detained  and deported

 

The lambs of God

 

I believe that as my lament rises

You come down

And meet it with love and power

Forgiving, healing, protecting, comforting, teaching, loving… (there are too many words)

 

So that you, and I, and all your people

Might move

From lament to hope