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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



Monday, March 3, 2025

Songs of lament

From my heart, I hear songs of lament

my grief is palpable

for I am a stranger in my own land

 

the songs of faith are wavering and weak

my voice falters

I struggle to sing a redemption song

 

So many platitudes are stuck in my throat

Love wins

Everything happens for a reason

God’s got this!

 

Really?

 

It is grotesque out there

in this time when bad people prosper

and truth doesn’t matter

where the rich bully the poor

where justice falters and racism flourishes

 

The Kingdom is near?

The Kingdom is here?

instead my eyes gaze

over an endless wasteland

 

they kill you out there

one way or another

we die

out there

 

this is a time for faith

a time to trust

 

I hear my voice proclaim this from the pulpit

people look up!

the day is near!

the Kingdom of God is nigh!

 

but do I believe it?

 

really?

 

do I trust the power of God

as much as I fear the malign powers

that shred the fabric of our common humanity?

 

do I trust Jesus

enough to pick up my bed and walk?

 

enough to stand up, speak out

to lift my voice and sing

to march?

 

do I trust?

do I believe everything good about God is true (Reyes-Chow)

and live toward justice, equity

and equality?

 

do I trust enough to act, believing

that if act

I will make hope real?

 

Hope is verb

it is not just what we feel

it is not just something we receive

it is something

we live

 

so live it!

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