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, July 19, 2018

Blessed are

Blessed are the agnostics. Blessed are they who doubt, those who aren't sure, those who can still be surprised. Blessed are those who have nothing to offer. Blessed are they for whom death is not an abstraction. Blessed are they who have buried their loved ones for whom tears could fill an ocean.

Blessed are they who have loved enough to know what loss feels like. Blessed are they who don't have the luxury of taking things for granted anymore. Blessed are they who can't fall apart because they have to keep it together for everyone else. Blessed are those who still aren't over it yet. Blessed are those who mourn.

Blessed are those who no one else notices, the kids who sit alone at middle school lunch tables, the laundry guys at the hospital, the sex workers, and the night shift street sweepers. Blessed are the forgotten. Blessed are the closeted. Blessed are the unemployed, the unimpressive, the under-represented.

Blessed of the wrongly accused, the ones who never catch a break, the ones for whom life is hard for Jesus chose to surround himself with people like them. Blessed are those without documentation. Blessed are the ones without lobbyists. Blessed are those who make terrible business decisions for the sake of people. Blessed are the burned out social workers and the overworked teachers and the pro-bono case takers.

Blessed are the kindhearted NFL players and the fundraising trophy wives. And blessed are the kids who step between the bullies and the weak. Blessed is everyone who has ever forgiven me when I didn't deserve it. Blessed are the merciful for they totally get it. You are of heaven and Jesus blesses you.
                                                                           NADIA BOLZ-WEBER

Blessed are they
Blessed are all the little ones
Sinful ones
Faithful ones

Blessed are the sober ones
And the wasted one
The healthy ones
And the ill

Blessed are those who are joyful
And blessed are those who mourn

Sometimes we think we know what a “blessing” looks like

It looks like finding someone to love
Who actually loves us back

It looks like our stocks going up
And our debt going down

It looks like “our” person being elected President

I looks like a big tax refund
Like a sunny day (or a rainy one)

I looks like happy healthy children

But we are always blessed
Even when love fails
And we fall, hard

Even when our debts mount
And depression hollows us out until
We are nothing

We are blessed when the storms come
And anxiety mounts

And perhaps it is the moments that we don’t feel blessed
That we most need to understand
That we are blessed

For being blessed is one thing
One thing
It is Sacred Love

And it is our having even the smallest, tiniest
Mustard seed sized
awareness of that love

it is that touch of warmth and peace
somewhere down in our deepest place
when all seems cold and chaotic

So holy ones
And holy terrors

So saints and all sinners (thank you Nadia)
So people wreathed with smiles
And people whose eyes are filled with tear

So people who know peace
And those who do not….

“Rejoice, and be glad!
Blessed are you, holy are you!
Rejoice and be glad!
Yours is the kingdom of God!”  (Haas)

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