TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Proverbs 25:6-7

Psalm 112

Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16

Luke 14:1, 7-14

Prayer of the Day: O God, you resist those who are proud and give grace to those who are humble. Give us the humility of your Son, that we may embody the generosity of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” Luke 14:12-14.

The 2-4-6 dinner, so named because that is the address of the Methodist church in which it is held, was one of many unfortunate casualties of the Covid-19 pandemic. It was a weekly occurrence throughout the winter months here in Wellfleet, Massachusetts. Organized and run by a consortium of civic leaders, church members and volunteers, the dinner was hosted each Tuesday evening in the church basement welcoming as many as two hundred people. No reservations were necessary. There were no conditions nor any requirement to demonstrate need. Though there were plenty of food insecure folk who came to us regularly, they were not the only attendees. Many senior folk, who live alone and experience severe isolation during the long winter months here on the Outer Cape, found company and friendship. Young AmeriCorps workers housed in various settings throughout the forests of the National Seashore welcomed the opportunity to gather and socialize under one roof, a luxury where most of the local bars, restaurants and clubs are closed for the season. There were musicians who graced us with music on the church’s ancient piano as lively conversation was had at each table. Of course, welcoming a crowd of this size in close quarters was out of the question once the pandemic set in. Though 2-4-6 continued to provide food assistance via take out, it was not the same. Now with vaccines and effective treatment for Covid, we are seeking safe and responsible ways to re-start the dinner.

My experience with 2-4-6 stands in stark contrast to other feeding ministries with which I have been involved. At my last congregation, we prepared meals on a monthly basis for the Walk In dinners at the homeless shelter in Hackensack, New Jersey. In addition to persons staying at the shelter, the dinner was attended by people from all over Bergen County experiencing food insecurity. We did all the preparation at the church and brought our food to the shelter. The dinner was managed by shelter staff. Guests stood in line outside until the dinning room opened. Staff ushered them indoors and we stood behind a counter with food warmers, glass sneeze barriers and a steel shelf on which to place plates of food. On the other side of that divide were the recipients. We would dish up a plate of meat, potato and vegetable for each person. Deserts were at the end of the line monitored by staff. Though we always greeted each person and did our best to personalize our work, we did not otherwise interact much with those we were feeding. Giving “seconds” was strictly forbidden under the rules of the center. I have to confess that I broke that one more than a few times, for which I was reprimanded by the staff. “Pastor, I know you mean well. But when you make exceptions, you make it impossible for us to maintain order here.”

I do not wish to denigrate the fine work of the staff at Hackensack Shelter for the Homeless. They are some of the most faithful, committed and compassionate people I know. They provide life giving aid to people in desperate circumstances, serving meals to families with small children barely able to pay their bills as well as homeless women and men . Among those served are a few folks that are mentally ill and emotionally disturbed. The rules strictly enforced by the staff help to ensure that the Walk-In dinner is a safe place for everyone. I want to emphasize that feeding the poor and sheltering the homeless is everyone’s responsibility and the duty of every humane society. But I also believe that Jesus asks much more of us than that. Jesus calls us to invite the poor, the hungry, the lonely and neglected to be honored guests at the Messianic banquet. Jesus never simply provided food. He prepared a meal, a blessing and an opportunity for community to develop and grow.

Understand that a meal is something quite different from “grabbing a bite,” “raiding the refrigerator” or “grab and go.” Meals are meant to be shared. They bind families together. Old and corny as it might be, the shopworn saying is true. “The family that eats together stays together.”  Meals are where stories are told and retold, where important events are celebrated, where we get to share and hear about each other’s day. Potlucks, picnics and repasts are occasions for building, strengthening and repairing community. Through shared meals the tendrils of compassion extend into the lives of all who partake in them and everyone they touch. Meals are the glue that holds families, communities and churches together.

Jesus understood the importance of meals. Sunday’s gospel takes place in the context of a meal. That is common place for Jesus, particularly in Luke’s gospel, where it often seems that Jesus is either at, going to or coming from a meal. He eats with outcasts and sinners. He goes to dinner at the home of prestigious religions leaders. When Jesus speaks of the coming reign of God, he often describes it in terms of a wedding feast. Most important, Jesus’ final evening together with his disciples was a meal in which he vowed to be present with them whenever the bread is broken and the wine poured. The meal is what makes the body of believers the Body of Christ. Through the community created by the eucharistic meal, God aims to bind up the cracks, crevices and divisions that threaten God’s good world.

One line in the Twenty-Third Psalm has always intrigued me: “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” Psalm 23:5. In a psalm that is comforting over all, that verse strikes a dissonant and disturbing chord. I don’t think I would have much appetite if I had to eat dinner surrounded by enemies. I would much rather be surrounded by family, friends, people with whom I feel comfortable. But Jesus does not afford us that comfort. He instructs us to do quite the opposite. Invite the poor, the crippled and the lame. Invite people who might well be your enemies. Perhaps God sets a table for us in the presence of our enemies because it is the only way God can make us understand that the table we set for ourselves and our loved ones is too small. Perhaps God sets a table for us in the presence of our enemies because God knows that the table is the only thing powerful enough to overcome our fear, hatred and prejudices toward one another. Maybe the beginning of a new heaven and a new earth comes by asking a stranger to dinner-and recognizing in the breaking of the bread the presence of Jesus.

Here is a poem by Joy Harjo speaking elequently to the formtive power of the table. It is force that I believe God would have us extend to the ends of the earth. But for that, to borrow a phrase from the movie Jaws, “we’re gonna need a bigger table.”

Perhaps the World Ends Here

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.

Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.

We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.

At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

Source: The Woman who fell from the Sky (c. 1994 by Joy Harjo, pub. by W.W. Norton and Company, Inc.) Joy Harjo (b. 1951) is an American poet, musician, playwright, and author. She served as the 23rd United States Poet Laureate, the first Native American to hold that honor. She was also only the second Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to have served three terms. Harjo is a member of the Muscogee Nation. In addition to writing books and other publications, Harjo has taught in numerous United States universities, performed internationally at poetry readings and music events and released seven albums of her original music. Harjo is the author of nine books of poetry, and two award-winning children’s books. You can learn more about Joy Harjo and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.

“Why don’t we just kill them? Every last democrat, down to the last man, woman and child?”

“It’s time for the day of the rope. White revolution is the only solution.”

Responses to Donald Trump’s December 16, 2021 call to come to Washington on January 6^th.

Sometimes you have to call a thing what it is. Sometimes you have to speak the truth no matter how ugly it is, no matter how divisive and polarizing it is, no matter how organizationally disruptive it is and no matter how many family get-togethers it spoils. And here it is. The Republican Party has become a vector for the darkest angels of our national character. It has become a haven for hateful ideologies, vile prejudices and paranoid conspiracy theories. As such, it is a force dangerous not only to our democratic traditions and institutions, but to the very lives and well being of many American citizens.

It is long past time for viewing the G.O.P. as benign political party with a lunatic fringe. The lunatics are now firmly in charge of the asylum. If that was not clear from the moment Donald J. Trump won the Republican presidential nomination in 2016, it became crystal clear on January 6, 2021. On that day the Republican Party demonstrated that it will employ lies, propaganda and racist screeds to incite killing in order to stay in power. A year and a half later as I write these lines, Republican politicians are vilifying the FBI following its entirely legal search of Donald Trump’s Mara Logo home to recover illegally retained government documents, some of which have the highest classification of secrecy. Their rhetoric has instigated at least one violent attack on FBI headquarters, protests in front of FBI buildings by groups armed with military style guns and death threats against FBI agents and employees.

These and other violent threats and attacks against government employees, election officials and people who have done no more than testify to what they have heard and seen stem from the “big lie” of the “stolen election.” That lie is still being propagated by Donald Trump and his loyal followers. Though this narrative is not supported by a single shred of evidence and has been debunked by numerous courts, audits and investigations, Republicans continue to propagate it-or remain tactically silent as their colleagues do so. The strategy has proven as effective as it did for Adolph Hitler, who famously said, “If you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed.” A solid majority of Republicans have been convinced that the lie is true. These are not simply “hard ball” political tactics. They are the acts of a party bent on seizing power and imposing it by any means necessary, including lies, intimidation, slander and violence. The Republican party as it exists today is a fascist organization.[1]  

Am I being too harsh? Is this just more inflammatory rhetoric that is unhelpful and only further polarizes our society? Judge for yourself. Trump himself is reported to have said he wished his generals were as loyal to him as Hitler’s were.[2] Revisit the remarks of Republican Marjory Taylor Green in a recent podcast interview. Ms. Green compares Democrats to the British colonial government during the revolutionary period of our country and suggests that true Americans might have to use their Second Amendment rights to maintain/restore American freedom. Huff Post, January 11, 2022. Or replay a speech given on May 27, 2021 in which Republican Matt Gaetz, R-Florida, told his audience that “the Second Amendment is about maintaining within the citizenry the ability to maintain an armed rebellion against the government if that becomes necessary.” New York Post, May 27, 2021. Finally, consider Oklahoma GOP Chair John Bennett, who is running for Congress, referring to Democrats as “communists” who “stole” the 2020 election and with whom “we are at war.” Huff Post, April 27, 2022. And recall the cheers from his audience, when he called for the execution by firing squad of Dr. Anthony Fauci. When Mr. Bennett says “war,” he means the literal sort. The kind in which people are killed. As is evident from the violent reactions and threats of Trump’s mob, this rhetoric is doing exactly what Republicans want it to do-incite violence and terror.

People like Gaetz, Taylor Green and Bennett may be outside of the Republican party’s traditional mainstream. But the traditional mainstream is no longer the engine driving the party. Who is driving the party? Consider that nearly every high ranking Republican absolutely refused to censor Donald Trump-even as he praised Vladimir Putin whose rockets are daily bombing orphanages and hospitals. Consider how the Republican leadership, to a member, refused to hold him responsible for propagating the “stolen election” lie and refused to criticize him for promising to pardon all those who violently attacked our Capital Building on January 6, 2021 in the unfortunate event he wins another presidential term. Despite all this, Senator Lindsay Graham still insists that Trump is the “leader” of the Republican party. Senator Mitch McConnell has stated his intent to support Donald J. Trump if he is chosen in the primaries as the Republican presidential candidate. Even “moderate” Senator Susan Collins will not rule out supporting his presidential bid. These “mainline” Republicans know on which side their bread is buttered. They don’t care about the Constitution. They don’t give a damn for all the high minded principles they once espoused. They could not care less about the standing of their nation on the world stage. They want to keep their party in power and that means standing with their strong man. If keeping one’s congressional seat means placating a man who stirs up the lowest, ugliest, most hateful, bigoted and violent underbelly of the U.S. population into a frenzied mob, so be it.

Donald Trump might be a failed businessman, cowardly draft dodger, adulterous philanderer, sexual predator and incapable of forming, much less carrying out coherent policy. Nevertheless, like all good fascist leaders, he knows how to whip up a lynch mob. He knows the buttons to push that get a crowd on its feet and screaming for blood. If you want to understand the Republican party, you need only examine the anatomy of a lynching. There are the few that actually do the dirty work of murdering the victim. There are several more in the forefront cheering them on. There is a much larger group that might find it beneath their dignity to get their hands dirty with such crass brutality, but are secretly glad that somebody else is. Others might have some misgivings about the methods but figure that, as this is a battle for the soul of America, the ends justify the means. There is a large group that might disapprove of the whole affair, but because the victim is not one of “their people,” they decide that it isn’t any of their business and not worth risking the ire of the mob. There is a group of people with a semblance of conscience who slip away in horror, go home, shut their doors, draw the curtains and pretend the whole terrible event is not taking place. But whether by action, encouragement, tacit approval, inaction or cowardice, all are participants. All are enablers. All share responsibility for the crime.

So here’s the deal. Your choices are no longer between the competing political philosophies, priorities and policies of two parties equally committed to the electoral process. Your choice is between an imperfect, sometimes corrupt, frequently inefficient and often inept democracy that has nevertheless given us freedom and opportunities that are the envy of much of the rest of the world, or a regime built on the foundation of mob hatred governed by criminals, extremists and the opportunists riding their coat tails. You don’t have to like Democrats, their policies or their candidates. But if you want your democracy to survive, you had better get out and vote like hell for them as if your life depended on it-because it does. The Republican party has given you fair warning that lethal violence is not outside the scope of what it will do, encourage, tolerate or ignore to advance its agenda. To be clear, most Republicans are not inherently violent people. You can be certain that most Republicans will never raise a violent hand against you. But you can be just as certain that they won’t lift a finger against the rest of their tribe who have promised you in no uncertain terms that they will. If you are not wearing a MAGA hat, that should scare the crap out of you. More importantly, it should inspire you to use your voice, use your witness and use your vote to dump Donald Trump and his party into the dust bin of history along with George Wallace, Lester Maddox, Bull Connor,  Joe McCarthy and all the rest of our nation’s embarrassments.

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[1] “Yes, but the Democrats…” I have nothing to say in defense of the Democratic Party. I am not a Democrat myself and have no interest in becoming one. I know very well that the Democratic Party is just as beholden to corporate donors, special interests and lobbyists as are Republicans. That being said, there were no Joe Biden flags at the January 6, 2021 insurrection. There are no Democrats that I know of invoking the support of the Proud Boys, Oath Keepers or KKK organizations, referring to them as “very fine people.” To be fair, there has always been a deep seated strain of racist hate, anti-intellectualism, misogynism and xenophobia in the American DNA, often legitimized by bastardized expressions of American Christianity. On February 20, 1939 the dark side of Americana was on full display at Madison Square Garden. There the German American “bund,” a pro Nazi organization established in 1933 held a rally attracting over twenty-thousand participants. The Bund’s youth members were present that night dressed in uniforms identical to those of the Hitler youth, as were the “Ordnungsdienst,” the group’s vigilante police force dressed in the style of Hitler’s SS officers. Banners hanging in the auditorium had messages like “Stop Jewish Domination of Christian Americans” and “Wake Up America. Smash Jewish Communism.” See “When Nazis Took Manhattan,” All Things Considered, NPR (February 20,2019).  From the birth of our republic, politicians, both Democratic and Republican, have exploited these darker angels of our national nature for their own purposes. In my own time, they had names like George Wallace, Lester Maddox, Strom Thurmond and Jesse Helms. These men drew their support and their ability to thwart the advance of civil rights from a deep pocket of white rage against a changing world and white resentment against feminists, racial minorities, liberals and communists who  were believed to be taking the country away from its rightful owners. But I think it is more than fair to say that no leader in the history of the United States has succeeded so thoroughly in marshalling the seething pots of white resentment into a national political movement than Donald J. Trump.

[2] In all fairness, this statement was reported by General John Kelly. During his short tenure as Trump’s chief of staff, Kelly’s own loyalty led him to lie about a member of congress in defense of his boss. Now, from the safety of his retirement, he has decided to speak up and play the elder statesman by warning us at this late hour about the danger Trump poses to the republic. It is therefore more than reasonable to question the validity of anything the general has to say. All that being said, however, this statement attributed toTrump is thoroughly consistent with the man’s fanatical demands for loyalty and I have no reason to think he wouldn’t make such a statement.  

ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Isaiah 58:9b-14

Psalm 103:1-8

Hebrews 12:18-29

Luke 13:10-17

Prayer of the Day: O God, mighty and immortal, you know that as fragile creatures surrounded by great dangers, we cannot by ourselves stand upright. Give us strength of mind and body, so that even when we suffer because of human sin, we may rise victorious through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“If you refrain from trampling the sabbath,
   from pursuing your own interests on my holy day;
if you call the sabbath a delight
   and the holy day of the Lord honorable;
if you honor it, not going your own ways,
   serving your own interests, or pursuing your own affairs;
then you shall take delight in the Lord,
   and I will make you ride upon the heights of the earth;
I will feed you with the heritage of your ancestor Jacob,
   for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” Isaiah 58:13-14.

For most of us protestant Christians, honoring the Sabbath is nearly synonymous with going to church on Sunday. Some protestant churches continue to prohibit work on Sunday in honor of the Sabbath. Strictly speaking, however, the Sabbath is not about worship. It is about rest. Rest from labor for everyone, from princes at the pinnacle of society to the lowliest servant. According to the Hebrew Scriptures, animals were also to be given rest from work on the Sabbath. The land itself was to receive a year of sabbath from cultivation every seven years. In essence, the Sabbath is a labor law designed to protect humans, animals and the earth itself from ruthless exploitation.  

The command to rest was the first one God gave us when, at the completion of creation after six days, God rested. I saw recently a clever poster featuring a photograph of the earth from outerspace and this verse from Genesis: “Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all their multitude. And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done.” Genesis 2:1-2. Underneath were the words, “So, tell me again about how busy you are and how you just can’t afford to take a break from all your important work.” A rabbi under whom I studied Hebrew while in college told us that “God commanded us to rest because he knew that, left to ourselves, we never would.”

Work is a good gift of God and a blessing-or at least it is supposed to be. But work has a way of getting out of hand and taking over the rest of life. When I first began practicing law, the hours were long and difficult. When the work day ended, however, I got into my car and enjoyed a relatively easy commute back home, listening to music and decompressing. When I walked through the door into the house, the office was behind me and I was confronted with a fresh set of domestic challenges. If I didn’t have a complete day of rest, at least I got to enjoy little islands of rest protected from the reach of my job.

With the advent of the cell phone, I lost the comfort of knowing that, while driving from place to place, I could enjoy a period of peace where no one could reach me. E-mail extended into the sanctuary of my home the reach of anxious clients eager to know the status of their cases, senior partners needing a legal memo asap and associates with pressing questions about their assignments. More recently, the covid-19 pandemic accelerated this trend by blurring altogether the distinction between home and work through normalizing the practice of “working from home.”[1] It has become increasingly difficult to enjoy any sort of Sabbath, that is, time altogether free from the demands and obligations of work.

In Jesus day, the Sabbath itself had become a laborious burden. Instead of providing an oasis of peace for rest and rejuvenation, Sabbath had become an onerous network of rules to be observed. The ruler of the synagogue in our gospel lesson goes ballistic when Jesus heals a woman bent over from a chronic back condition. “There are six days on which work ought to be done;” he tells the people. “Come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day.” Luke 13:14. It sounds reasonable enough at first blush. After all, this woman’s ailment is hardly a medical emergency. She has lived with the condition for eighteen years. All she has to do is wait another few hours until sundown.

Jesus, however, takes a different view. He reminds his audience why God gave us the Sabbath. It isn’t as though God created an elaborate set of rules and then, as an afterthought, decided to create people so that there would be someone to follow all of these wonderful rules. As Jesus has told us elsewhere, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath.” Mark 2:27. The Sabbath was designed to ensure that human beings are given rest from their labors. As all of us who suffer from back pain know, it is hard to get any rest when your back is killing you. Jesus is simply opening the door of Sabbath rest to this woman whose pain had been excluding her from it for eighteen years. What better way to honor the Sabbath than to expand its reach to those who need it most?

The Sabbath and its limitations on the scope of labor for the protection of the earth and all its human and nonhuman inhabitants stands in stark contrast to the values of late stage capitalism which exploits all for the sake of profit for a few. This false religion of profit permeates our educational institutions, which are designed to produce workers and professionals meeting the needs of corporate America. When speculating about a person’s wealth, we are typically heard making remarks like, “So what do you think she’s worth?” We compensate and value individuals based on how much value can be extracted from their labor. In the view of capitalism, the world is not God’s creation, but merely a ball of exploitable resources to be used in generating profit. Small wonder, then, that the earth is scarred with deforested wastelands, contaminated waters and dying cities filled with the ruins of factories and poverty stricken people capitalism has left behind after extracting everything it could use.

Sabbath points us to a different kind of economy. It is an economy driven by human need rather than human greed. It is an economy designed to create and nourish community rather than exploiting and then abandoning communities in the interest of cheaper labor and greater efficiency. A biblical economy treats the earth, its habitats and inhabitants with reverence and respect rather than as a treasure trove of resources to be mined ruthlessly for generating profit. A biblical economy seeks to build a society in which all people can live meaningful and productive lives rather than seeking to mold people into productive units to be used by corporate industry until obsolete and then summarily discarded. Honoring the Sabbath is a whole lot more than simply going to church. To honor the Sabbath is to pursue justice and ecological renewal passionately and relentlessly.

Here is a poem by Denise Levertov that speaks eloquently to what I believe can be characterized as Sabbath, both as presently experienced and as anticipated with passionate hope.        

To Live in the Mercy of God

To lie back under the tallest
oldest trees. How far the stems
rise, rise
before ribs of shelter
open!

To live in the mercy of God. The complete
sentence too adequate, has no give.
Awe, not comfort. Stone, elbows of
stony wood beneath lenient
moss bed.

And awe suddenly
passing beyond itself. Becomes
a form of comfort.
Becomes the steady
air you glide on, arms
stretched like the wings of flying foxes.
To hear the multiple silence
of trees, the rainy
forest depths of their listening.

To float, upheld,
as salt water
would hold you,
once you dared.

To live in the mercy of God.

To feel vibrate the enraptured

waterfall flinging itself
unabating down and down
to clenched fists of rock.
Swiftness of plunge,
hour after year after century,
O or Ah
uninterrupted, voice
many-stranded.
To breathe
spray. The smoke of it.
Arcs
of steelwhite foam, glissades
of fugitive jade barely perceptible. Such passion—
rage or joy?
Thus, not mild, not temperate,
God’s love for the world. Vast
flood of mercy
flung on resistance.

Source: Sands from the Well (c. 1996 by Denise Levertov; pub. by New Directions Publishing Corporation) Denise Levertov (1923–1997) never received a formal education. Nevertheless, she created a highly regarded body of poetry that earned her recognition as one of America’s most respected poets. Her father, Paul Philip Levertov, was a Russian Jew who converted to Christianity and subsequently moved to England where he became an Anglican minister.  Levertov grew up in a household surrounded by books and people talking about them in many languages. During World War II, Levertov pursued nurse’s training and spent three years as a civilian nurse at several hospitals in London. Levertov came to the United States in 1948, after marrying American writer Mitchell Goodman. During the 1960s Levertov became a staunch critic of the Vietnam war, a topic addressed in many of her poems of that era. Levertov died of lymphoma at the age of seventy-four. You can read more about Denise Levertov and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation Website.

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[1] I know that many people find working from home to be liberating. I can understand that. It spares them the time, cost and aggravation of commuting to a distant office. Working from home allows one greater freedom in setting one’s own schedule, thereby enabling them to participate more fully in the life of their spouses and children. But my own experience has been that trying to get work done at home does not make me a better spouse, father or person all around.  

TENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Jeremiah 23:23-29

Psalm 82

Hebrews 11:29—12:2

Luke 12:49-56

Prayer of the Day: O God, judge eternal, you love justice and hate oppression, and you call us to share your zeal for truth. Give us courage to take our stand with all victims of bloodshed and greed, and, following your servants and prophets, to look to the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?” Luke 12:56.

I have to confess that my sympathies here are with Jesus’ audience. I have never had much success interpreting the present time. The “signs” of the time have always seemed contradictory to me. While I was growing up in the late 60s and 70s, hard won gains for women and people of color seemed to point to a brighter future even as tensions between the United States and the Soviet Union threatened thermonuclear doom. Ultimately, the Soviet threat evaporated while a more conservative Supreme Court began the work of dismantling affirmative action, the Voting Rights Act and protections for reproductive rights-a job the current Supreme Court is poised to complete. Fascism, once thought to have died with Francisco Franco, is on the rise globally and has commandeered one of our nation’s two major parties. Russia has re-emerged under Vladimir Putin as an empire hungry to expand. The future of democracy and human rights is at stake. Nevertheless, if the direst predictions of climate scientists are accurate and the paralysis of world leaders in addressing them persists or the superpower proxy wars turn nuclear, none of that will matter.

Yet as I write these lines, the United States Congress is poised to approve a bill addressing climate change in a significant way. Voters in the state of Kansas overwhelmingly defeated an attempt to role back women’s reproductive rights and the House Committee Investigating the insurrection of January 6, 2020 is slowly but surely chipping away at the pervasiveness of the “big lie” of the stolen election. In spite of efforts by reactionary forces to turn back the clock, time marches on. The sight of interracial couples walking down the street holding hands, a sight never seen in my childhood, is so common today as not to merit a second glance. Same sex couples, who throughout most of my life have had to live in the shadows, now live openly as families and are increasingly gaining acceptance. As dark as the future sometimes seems, today is in many respects a better day than the one on which I was born. That is not to say that tomorrow will be brighter still. Many once great civilizations have fallen into ruin, leaving in their wake ages of barbarism and violence. The jury is out on the future of our current global order. So, on balance, I cannot say where the signs of the times are pointing.

Or perhaps my way of reading the signs of the time is all wrong. Maybe Jesus is not directing our speculative gaze into the future at all. After all, Jesus has warned us more than once against trying to cobble together from scriptural passages and current events God’s timeline for bringing the world to its end and ushering in the reign of God-as though there were such a timeline. Jesus himself denied having such knowledge. That alone should cast more than doubt about anyone who claims to have “cracked the biblical end times code.”

These warnings should also caution us against becoming too shrill and bombastic in our declarations about what God wills or where God is taking us or what constitutes progress toward God’s coming reign. Can we be so sure that “saving American democracy” is God’s priority? What if God means to dissolve the whole world order, the United States included, to make way for something new? Can we be so certain that our frantic efforts to turn around the steady decline in church membership and support is consistent with God’s intent for God’s church? Could it be that God, not secularization or any of the other culprits we blame, is responsible for the modern church’s decreasing numbers, loss of prestige and influence? Could it be that God is looking for a small, poor and marginalized church that has only the Word to sustain it-which is, of course, all that it ever really had to begin with. Perhaps the signs of the times are meant make us aware of how little we understand our own time, how incomplete is our comprehension of what God is doing and how careful and humble we ought to be in speaking those fearful words, “Thus saith the Lord.”

Still, Jesus does assure us that God is at work in the messiness of human life bringing into existence something new. Jesus tells us that what often seem like death throes are in fact birth pangs. Before its birth as a people, Israel was incubated four hundred years in slavery. Before its return to and rebirth in the promised land, the people of Israel languished for seventy years in exile. Jesus lay for three days in the darkness of a sealed tomb-which might better be characterized a womb. As it turns out, God does God’s best work in the dark. That is good news for people like me who are in the dark about most things most of the time!

In the final analysis, the cross and the resurrection are key to interpreting the present time. Birth does not happen without pain, rending of flesh and bloodshed. The new creation implies the death of the old. The new heaven and earth is pushing its way into the old, but the old is not going down without a fight. To welcome the new creation, one must be willing to relinquish one’s hold on the old. Even the intimate ties of family must give way to the embrace of God’s reign. The temptation to do just the opposite is more powerful for those of us who have known mainly the comforts, privilege and influence this world affords. We who cling desperately to what we deem ours by right and imagine God’s future reign as nothing more than an eternal continuation of our past benefits are bound to be sorely disappointed. The signs of the times should serve as a warning to us that our attachment to wealth, power, blood, soil, nation or whatever else we deem eternal is bound for dissolution. Hell might be nothing more or less than one’s realization that one’s life has been wasted on a whole lot of what doesn’t matter.   

Perhaps that is what the “signs” are intended to remind us. The events of our day, random, threatening and chaotic as they might be, are nevertheless given meaning by the cross and resurrection of Jesus and the biblical narrative bearing witness to it. In Jesus’ faithful life, obedient death and glorious resurrection we are invited to see in our lives and experiences signs of God birthing a new thing in the midst of an old and tired world. We may not know all that God is up to, but we know that God is at work for our redemption in the midst of our messy existence. We have no idea exactly what that will look like, how it will emerge or when it will reach completion. Yet, whatever it turns out to be, it is sure to be more wonderful than anything we could have imagined. That isn’t all we might like to know. But it is enough.      

The following poem by Alli Warren invites us to interpret the present time. Though she suggests that events, great or small, are bearers of meaning and significance, she leaves much for us readers to supply. Her poem functions in many respects the way Jesus’ parables function, seeking not to answer our questions, but rather to solicit from us better questions.

Something is Coming Toward us

Flaunting in the atrium, ostentatious at the gates

I saw a shooting star thru a window on Alcatraz Ave

& cladding struck up against those who demand

We stomach the stick and tend the commode

They’re selling trees in the paint store! trees in the paint store

Datebook chips in the soft skin of our wrists

On NBC, CNN, and NPR broken windows are weeping

We’ll have 35 apples and shrieking in the thickets

Aloft in the air golden and golden the dial among the mounds

So much is stunted in understanding of what a light can be

They storm the scrimmage line and clear-cut bran and germ

We want the petal unto itself, the unalterable vessel

The arc end of the precipice grows 1.9% annually

What was popular music like before the crisis?

Source: I Love It Though, (c. 2017 by Alli Warren;  pub. by Nightboat Books). Alli Warren is an Ameican poet and author. She was born in Los Angeles and now lives in the Bay Area of San Francisco. Her writing has been published in many venues, including Harpers, Poetry, The Brooklyn Rail and Feminist Formations. You can find out more about Alli Warren and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation Website.

NINTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Genesis 15:1-6

Psalm 33:12-22

Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16

Luke 12:32-40

Prayer of the Day: Almighty God, you sent your Holy Spirit to be the life and light of your church. Open our hearts to the riches of your grace, that we may be ready to receive you wherever you appear, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them.” Hebrews 11:13-16.

Our second lesson for this coming Sunday is an excerpt from a much longer roll call of faith heroes in the Hebrew Scriptures, beginning with Abel, the first born of Adam and Eve, and ending with the prophets. I encourage you to read Chapter 11 of the Letter to the Hebrews in its entirety. The faith of these individuals, we are told by the anonymous author of the letter, consists of the assurance of things they do not yet see, trust in promises not yet fulfilled, belief in a future beyond the horizons of their lifetimes. Like them, disciples of Jesus are “strangers and foreigners on the earth.” They are “are seeking a homeland.” They are refugees for whom there is no permanent place, no ultimate loyalty and no “blood and soil” tie to any place.

Unless you have been residing on another planet for the last ten years, you know that “refugees,” “foreigners” and “strangers” are among the most hated individuals on the globe. Refugee camps all over the world host millions of people that are unwanted by any nation anywhere. Refugees fleeing war zones, gang violence, religious persecution and starvation brave unimaginable dangers seeking to bring themselves and their families to safe havens in our country and others, only to be met with barbed wire, armed guards and a population unwilling to offer them sanctuary. Like the saints of old, they suffer “mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They [are] killed by the sword; they [go] about….destitute, persecuted, tormented…”  Hebrews 11:36-37. It is as refugees, the writer tells us, that disciples of Jesus are to live. We are a people belonging to no country but seeking a homeland that, for now, is only a promise.

Refugee status defines much of biblical history. Adam and Eve are exiled from Eden. Abraham and Sarah are foreigners and squatters in the land of Canaan. They later become refugees driven by famine into Egypt and compelled to trade sexual favors for security in that realm. The people of Israel spend four hundred years as enslaved and exploited laborers in the land of Egypt and forty more years as landless nomads in the wilderness. Following the Assyrian and Babylonian conquests of Israel and Judah, the people of Israel are carried into exile and resettled throughout the middle east. Those who return to the land of Israel find themselves ruled by imperial decree and treated as foreigners in their own land. Jesus and his family came to Egypt fleeing political violence and genocide. As the Letter to the Hebrews makes clear, the story of Israel and the Church is a story of God’s love for refugees and God’s choice of those who are “no people” to be “God’s people.” I Peter 2:10.   

In view of all this, it should come as no surprise that the church has historically been involved in the ministry of welcoming refugees and assisting them in resettling. Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services, an oranization of my own Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, has been in this good work for eight decades. That has never before been considered a political issue. Welcoming strangers is part and parcel of discipleship. As the GEICO commercial says, “its what you do” when you follow Jesus. See Matthew 25:35. There has, of course, always been some opposition to admitting refugees into the country, most of which has been grounded in racism, xenophobia and an unfounded fear that refugees will take jobs away from hard working Americans and bleed taxpayer dollars in public benefits. But these misguided and uninformed voices were a small, if noisy, minority. Overall, refugee resettlement has been historically popular and has enjoyed bipartisan support in Congress. Consequently, the church’s resettlement ministry has been no more controversial than running food pantries and thrift shops.

But then came the presidential campaign of Donald Trump and his virulent rhetoric characterizing refugees as murderers, rapists and violent criminals. For many reasons, discussion of which is beyond the scope of this article, Trump’s rude characterization of refugees caught on in a big way. Churches that had been involved with refugee resettlement for decades suddenly found themselves faced with angry local citizen’s groups and even death threats. See “Opposition to Refugee Arrivals Keeps Getting Louder,” by Joel Rose on NPR’s All Things Considered. Suddenly, this ancient church practice of welcoming strangers recognized in the Hebrew Scriptures, established as a fundamental Christian practice in the New Testament and practiced by monasteries, convents, hospitals and inns throughout the centuries has become subversive and anti-American.

The church has historically stood with the refugee because we are refugees ourselves. If we don’t look much like refugees seeking a better homeland, then perhaps it is because we have gotten a little too cozy with the one through which we are supposed to be “just passing through.” In the words of the hymn/poem below:

“O shame to us who rest content
While lust and greed for gain
In street and shop and tenement
Wring gold from human pain,
And bitter lips in blind despair
Cry, ‘Christ has died in vain.’”

We have perhaps forgotten that “the earth is the Lord’s” and that no claim of national sovereignty can rise higher than God’s bequest of this good earth for the benefit of all people. No demand for national loyalty can rise above Jesus’ call to love our neighbor, no matter what side of any humanly drawn border that neighbor might have resided. Baptism trumps citizenship. To turn away a refugee is to turn away Jesus. The nations built on foundations of blood, soil and culture that would demand our ultimate allegiance at the expense of our neighbor are simply too small to accommodate the reign of God. Nothing less than the “Holy City seen of John” is fit to be called our homeland. These are neither liberal propositions nor conservative ones. They are neither Democratic nor Republican. They are just plain Jesus. If they do not comport with your politics, then you will just have to get yourself a new politics or a new savior.

Here is the text of the hymn written by Walter Russell Bowie cited above. It speaks of the City long sought by the biblical saints and how pursuit of that homeland ought to shape our hearts and actions.

1 O Holy City, seen of John,
Where Christ, the Lamb, does reign,
Within those four-square walls shall come
No night, nor need, nor pain,
And where the tears are wiped from eyes
That shall not weep again.

2 O shame to us who rest content
While lust and greed for gain
In street and shop and tenement
Wring gold from human pain,
And bitter lips in blind despair
Cry, “Christ has died in vain.”

3 Give us, O God, the strength to build
The City that has stood
Too long a dream, whose laws are love,
Whose ways, the common good,
And where the shining sun becomes
God’s grace for human good.

4 Already in the mind of God
That City rises fair:
Lo, how its splendor challenges
The souls that greatly dare:
Yea, bids us seize the whole of life
And build its glory there.

Source: RitualSong (2nd ed.) #957. Walter Russell Bowie (1882–1969) was a priest, author, editor, educator, hymn writer, and lecturer in the Episcopal Church (United States). He was born in Richmond, Virginia where his family had deep roots. He received a B.A and M.A. from Harvard University. As an undergraduate, Bowie was co-editor of The Harvard Crimson along with Franklin D. Roosevelt. He was ordained a deacon in 1908 and returned to Virginia where he entered the Protestant Episcopal Theological Seminary, now known as Virginia Theological Seminary in Alexandria, Virginia.  Bowie became known as a preacher as well as author and hymnist. In the 1920s, he advocated for creation of the League of Nations and US immigration reform. He staunchly opposed the the Ku Klux Klan and the spread of religious fundamentalism. Bowie joined the American Committee for Protection of the Foreign Born, The Church League for Industrial Democracy, the Citizens’ Committee to Free Earl Browder and the Civil Rights Congress.  

EIGHTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14; 2:18-23

Psalm 49:1-12

Colossians 3:1-11

Luke 12:13-21

Prayer of the Day: Benevolent God, you are the source, the guide, and the goal of our lives. Teach us to love what is worth loving, to reject what is offensive to you, and to treasure what is precious in your sight, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have stripped off the old self with its practices and have clothed yourselves with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its Creator.” Colossians 3:9-10.

This should go without saying. We have all been taught that lying is immoral. Still, most of us would confess that, at some point in our lives, we have been guilty of telling a lie. Those who profess otherwise are probably compulsive liars who have lost the capacity to distinguish between truth and falsehood. Such types appear to be on the increase in this age of “alternative facts.” Civil discourse has been rendered impossible by lies which have gained large public credence. There has been much lament in recent years about “polarization” in our society. But I do not believe polarization is the problem. Every community, including ecclesiastical ones, are polarized or divided to some extent. That is not necessarily a bad thing. It is possible for two intelligent people of good will to examine the same facts and come to very different conclusions about how significant those facts are, how they are related and what response they require from us. But as long as we are dealing with the same facts, it is possible to learn from each other’s perspective on them and find common ground and mutual concerns. Compromise can lead to agreed upon courses of action that are beneficial to all, even when they do not give all of us everything we might want.

In an environment where we cannot agree on the facts, however, no such constructive dialogue can take place. If one side dismisses all the science supporting the threat of climate change as “bunk and propaganda,” there is no likelihood that any meaningful joint response to the threat can be made. Lies that dismiss, deny and distort the facts make communal life impossible. Lies and misinformation abound these days and addressing every crackpot notion, conspiracy theory and piece of junk science bubbling up through talk radio, the internet and shadowy online communities feels a little like playing whack a mole. Still, I believe it is important that responsible citizens and, as Saint Paul reminds us, disciples of Jesus speak up to stop the lies and witness to the truth.

The opportunity for truth telling arises in the arena of social media, letters to the editor of local papers, in our congregations and within our families. The truth about our nation’s racism, misogyny, and homophobia needs to be told in our schools, in our churches, in our legislatures and in our courts. Most importantly, the truth needs to be told in barbershops, quilting groups and family gatherings because that is often where it makes the greatest impact. Crazy uncle Ned’s racist comments and wild conspiracy ravings should not be politely tolerated at the Thanksgiving dinner table. Uncle Ned needs to be told, in the clearest terms possible, that he is lying and and that he needs to stop it. That might make for some uncomfortable moments and perhaps some permanent family rupture. But Jesus warned us that such might well be the result of faithfulness to God’s reign. Luke 12:51-53.  

That being said, it is important to remember that truth is more than the sum of the facts. Back when I taught confirmation, I posed a hypothetical to my class. Imagine, I said, that you are on the school board. The board is planning to hire Mary Smith to be its treasurer. As such, she will be responsible for managing funds for the whole school district. You learn that Mary was formerly convicted of embezzlement and sentenced to ninety days in prison. Should you inform the board about Mary’s conviction?

Under these circumstances, the class unanimously agreed that the board should be made aware of this event in Mary’s past. After all, as treasurer, Mary will be responsible for managing a substantial amount of public money critical for the operation of the schools within the district. It would be a breach of duty for a member of the school board to turn a blind eye to the facts and allow the board to place a person with a history of financial dishonesty in this important position. 

But then I added to the hypothetical. Mary was a foster child who aged out of the system when she turned eighteen years old. At that time, she was informed that she could no longer live in the halfway house where was staying. Mary was working at a convenience store during this period of her life. One evening, when her employer left early and asked her to close up the store for the night, Mary took three hundred dollars from the cash register to cover her deposit for a room she planned to rent. She had intended to pay the money back again once she got established, but her theft was detected and Mary was arrested shortly thereafter. Upon release from prison, Mary found a job at a restaurant. She put aside as much money from her meager salary as she could each week. As soon as she had saved enough, she went back to her former employer at the convenience store and repaid the three hundred dollars she had taken with interest. Her former employer was impressed with Mary’s act and offered to re-hire her. Mary soon became her employer’s assistant and has been managing the store’s finances faithfully for over twenty years. In addition, Mary has been doing volunteer work with an agency helping first time offenders newly released from prison to find work and integrate back into society. She is currently serving as treasurer for her church.

The class agreed that having this additional information made the decision a great deal more difficult. Is something that happened so long ago in the life of a desperate and inexperienced young girl relevant to the woman she has become? There was some lively discussion over what obligation a school board member had under these circumstances. Some of the kids felt that there was no need to disclose Mary’s conviction and that doing so would be unfair. Others expressed the view that, although duty bound as a member of the board to disclose the conviction, they would also be obligated to provide the context and relate the exemplary nature of Mary’s subsequent life of integrity and service. All agreed that simply disclosing the conviction, without more, would be wrong.

Speaking truthfully involves more than accurately relating facts. Within the parameters of my hypothetical, Mary’s conviction at the age of eighteen was a true fact. Standing alone, however, it did not accurately reflect the true content of her character. Without more, simply relating the fact of Mary’s conviction to the school board would have been a lie. It would have led the board to conclude that Mary was not trustworthy when, in fact, she clearly was. It would have reduced the rich and varied narrative of Mary’s life to a single exercise of poor judgment in a state of desperation at a young age. How many of us would want our whole lives to be measured by the worst thing we have ever done? Truthful speech is not “just the facts.” Truthful speech places facts into a larger narrative where they can be understood properly.

Saint Paul teaches us that, in order to speak the truth, one must be “clothed […..]with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its Creator.” That is to say, one must view the facts from God’s perspective-something that happens gradually and only as the “mind of Christ” is formed in us. Philippians 2:5. Facts need to be contextualized and the context in which disciples view individual facts is the end toward which God is moving all creation revealed in the obedient life, faithful death and glorious resurrection of Jesus Christ. The truth about any person or nation cannot be understood apart from what we believe God’s loving purpose is for all people. Each individual is created in and with the potential for reflecting God’s image. Jesus could see in Peter the coward, James and John the self seeking brothers, Judas the terrorist and Matthew the collaborator the apostles they each ultimately became. So, too, we are challenged not merely to see in one another what in fact is, but also what in Christ each of us can become. That context shapes the way we speak truthfully. Truthful speech is always healing, redemptive and restorative-even when it is difficult to utter and painful to hear. What is spoken with the intent to tear down, hurt and destroy is never true, however factually accurate it might be.

Here is a poem by Patricia Goedicke reflecting the difficulty as well as the urgency of speaking truthfully.

I have arrived here after taking many steps

Over the kitchen floors of friends and through their lives.

The dun-colored hills have been good to me

And the gold rivers.

I have loved chrysantheumums, and children:

I have been grandmother to some.

In one pocket I have hidden chocolates from you

And knives.

Speaking my real thoughts to no one

In bars and at lecterns I have told the truth

Fairly often, but hardly ever to myself.

I have not cried out against the crimes of my country

But I have protected myself, I have watched from a safe corner

The rape of mountains, the eagle’s reckless plunge.

Ever since high school I have waved goodbye to history:

I have assisted you to grow

In all ways that were convenient to me.

What is a block vote against steam shovels?

My current events teacher was a fine man

But his moral precepts were a put-up job and I followed them.

Well-dressed, in my new Adidas

At every gathering I investigated my psyche with friends

And they investigated theirs with me.

But whenever Trouble came in the front door I ran out the back

And fell into the pit of my bones.

Escaped from those burning buildings, the past,

What balance can any of us hope for?

I was comparing lipsticks

The day Nagasaki vanished.

The day Solzhenitsyn disappeared into the Gulag

I was attending a cocktail party.

Perhaps there are only ashes in my handbag.

A man at the corner of Broadway and Forty-Second Street

Tried to sweep me into a trash barrel and I almost agreed.

Already the dried blood was sifting along my wrists.

Already my own hands

Were tightening around my throat

But Sorrow saved me, Sorrow gave me an image

Of bombs like human tears watering the world’s gardens.

How could I not answer?

Since then I have been planting words

In every windowbox, poking them to grow up.

What’s God, That he should be mindful of me?

Sometimes I feel like wood

Waiting for someone to peel me.

Indeed I have been lukewarm

At heart, which is all that matters.

Of tiny bread-colored atoms,

Equal fragments equally dispersed

That love each other and are never hungry.

What have I ever ignited

That warmed anyone?

I have not followed the rivers.

Dangerous as a pine needle

Packed in among others, in the dense multitudes

And dry timbers of the West

I am afraid of greed,

The rich taste of it, the anger

Hidden in my pockets.

Columns of smoke on the horizon,

Pillars of green fire.

But I have arrived here somehow,

Neither have I stopped talking.

Numberless are the kitchens I have sat in,

Chewing my fingers, trying to say something,

Anything, so that the daughters of men should see

As many sides of themselves as possible.

Word after word my footprints

Have stumbled across deserts.

How should I escape them?

They keep following after me.

A little wind stirs itself,

Whisks across my eyelids,

And I know what it is before I say it:

What if the world really articulates itself

In the socket of a human knee?

God save me

From the swamps of hubris but it may be, it may be.

Before the idea, the impulse.

I feel it moving in me, it is there

Arthritic but still powerful, a seizure

Delicate as grasshoppers, a light

Gathering in the skull.

Between thumb and forefinger

And the ballbearing joints of the tongue

In soft, glottal convulsions

Out of no alien skies

But out of the mind’s muscle

The hieroglyph figures rise.

The little histories of words

Cannot be eaten.

I know it, you know it

And the children…

But the images we make are our own.

In the cool caves of the intellect

The twisted roots of them lead us

Backwards and then forwards.

If only we could understand

What’s in our pockets is for everyone!

I have a dictionary in one hand, a mirror.

Strangers look at themselves in it,

Tracing the expressions they use

From one family to the next

They comfort themselves, murmuring

The tongues we speak are a blizzard

Of words like warm wool flying:

In the shy conjugal rites

Of verb, consonant, vowel,

In the dark mucosal flesh lining

The prismed underside of the skin

Each one is a spark sheared

From the veined fleece of the spirit

Of the looking-glass body we live in.

It is the one I have been cherishing,

The one all of us speak from,

For the world as we know it moves

Necessarily by steps.

Breath, pulse beat, ten digital stops.

At the foot of the mountains I look up. Does God

Lift up His hand to cover them?

Blinded by tears like rain

My bones turn granite, the spine of the hills congeals them.

Where is the eye of the storm,

Or where is the center of my seeing?

The wind of my breath is a hurricane:

I am locked inside myself.

Painfully, up the bald stepladder I climb,

But sometimes the light in my head goes on

More like the sun than a match.

Just as they said in Arabia

There’s a huge pantalooned angel swelling

Inside the body’s glass jar.

The white-haired thread of steam

From the teakettle on the range whistles

And sharpens itself into a voice

Bodiless as history, invisible

But still whispering in ears

That keep trying to hear it.

It is as if midgets were bellowing their names

Down sets of cardboard cylinders.

But we have not disappeared

Yet.

My friends, we have said many things to each other

In new combinations, seed upon seed exploding

And blossoming in kitchen gardens.

I confess I am ashamed of myself:

I have not tried hard enough to understand

Or listen to you speak.

But the Word is mindful of itself

And always has been.

Littering every street

In the sly eyes of tin cans,

Drops of water in the gutter

The world looks back at us

From every known language:

Yoruba, Hebrew, Chinese,

Arrogant English, the subject

Subjecting all to its desires,

Even the softer tongues, romantic

Self-reflexive, done to

As we would be done by,

Whatever life we cultivate

Out of the animal moans of childhood

It is all wheat fields, all grass

Growing and being grown.

With poisoned bread in my pockets, or gumdrops,

Or armies like Myrmidons rising

What I say is true

For a time only, thank God,

If I have only arrived anywhere it is to look

Carefully, at all I thought I knew.

In living rivers of speech

The reflections I make are my own

And yet not:

Though the old growth rings are hidden from us

And the echoing tomorrows of the acorn,

The warm currents of the senses

Are a two-way street, my friends:

The palms of our hands are crisscrossed

With as many intersections as a leaf.

Source: The Tongues We Speak (c. Patricia Goedicke; pub. by Milkweed Editions, 1989). Patricia Goedicke (1931-2006) was born in Boston, Massachusetts, but she grew up in Hanover, New Hampshire where her father was a resident psychiatrist at Dartmouth College. During her high school years, Goedicke distinguished herself as a downhill skier. She earned her B.A. at Middlebury College where she studied with Robert Frost. Her awards and accomplishments include the Rockefeller Foundation Residency; a National Endowment for the Arts Creative Writing Fellowship; a Pushcart Prize; the William Carlos Williams Prize; the 1987 Carolyn Kizer Prize; the Hohenberg Award, and the 1992 Edward Stanley Award from Prairie Schooner. Her last book was recognized as one of the top 10 poetry books of 2000 by the American Library Association. The Tongues We Speak, featuring the above poem, was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year in 1990. Goedicke was awarded The Chad Walsh Poetry Prize by the Beloit Poetry Journal in 2002. You can read more about Patricia Goedicke and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.

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