Tuesday, November 30, 2010

the launch (from fast forward)

The pneuma the breath the Spirit
a holy hurricane howling through every soul
behold my Church I’m sending you
now GO!

founded on the promise of the Cross
set on the shoulders of a man called the rock
spread like a good disease
through the Holy City of Jerusalem
all possessions held in common
no one called their property their own
bread broken together in homes
awe and wonder
God’s new thunder


FAST FORWARD


The gods are offended
the Empire incensed
who are these who
   will not bow the knee
   will not pay the fee
   will not play the game
   will not compromise the Name

and so it begins

the stoning of Stephen
exiles and crucifixions
victims in the coliseum
as Jesus’ flock
becomes food for lions
in the extreme sport
of persecution

until
one Roman king
sees things differently
and blesses the community
with immunity
an end to persecution
and the organism of Jesus’ body becomes...

...an institution

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

invisible ones (from fast forward)

I want to ask you my Church
how have you survived?
what mighty engine keeps your cells alive
what great heartbeat has sustained you
when pain contorts you
and sin stains you
through the trough of human sorrow
who has lifted you
to tomorrow

there are
and always have been
the invisible ones
who never made a name
rejected fame
the brick and pillars
the crossbeams of the church
they have stood up for justice
stooped down to serve
reached out to heal
sheltered the defenseless
mothered the motherless
lifted the depressed
and loved the despised

it matters that they lived
it matters how they died
it matters that they answered the call
without them
the foundations would groan and crack
and finally fall

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

woodworker (from fast forward: a history of the church)

A woodworker from the hill country
name of  Yeshua
Joshua
aka Jesus
  broke history in two
  reframed the law
  reinvigorated the prophets
  rewrote the DNA of the sick

evil spirits submitted to Him
fish jumped into nets for Him
loaves of bread multiplied for Him

He formed a coalition
He challenged authority
He purged the Temple
He riled the establishment

His own body
cracked open like bread
shattered like a wine glass
the pounding of the spikes heard round the world
the temple of the Holy Place torn from top to bottom
worn out traditions ripped to shreds
they could not contain
the One who sprang up from the dead

His body
reconfigured
reassembled
into
something new
   the Ecclesia--
   aka the Church


Sunday, November 21, 2010

south asia: Amol's story


Amol, his wife and three young children,
became the personal possession
of the owner of a rice factory,
locked in to a new dark world
of spine bending labor;
eighteen hours a day,
seven days a week,
healthy or sick they worked.

when the food ran short
the family was grudgingly given rice to eat
(infested with worms),
but even though hope was denied them
hunger could not be denied,
so they ate.

the factory owner said
you are mine,
and if you ever escape,
I will hunt you down.
I will bring you back.
I will make you work.
you will never
leave
these walls.

the Justice Mission
explored and prayed,
worked and walked undercover,
researched and wrote,
asked quiet inquiring questions in the streets,
and wove themselves
into the seams of the system,
eroded the power base,
disturbed the web,
and subverted the way things are.

and one day at the rice factory
the doors broke off,
and the factory owner was led off,
looking more like a slave than an oppressor.
his rice factory shut down hard,
and Amol and his family walked out into open air
with no one at their heels.
no one to capture them.
no one to haul them back.
no one to force them inside
that kiln of despair ever again.

Amol, a Hindu,
knows he and his family were considered
worth saving,
worth praying for,
worth fighting for,
and he says he knows a multitude of prayers delivered him...

his oldest son aspires to be
a brain surgeon.
--

Saturday, November 20, 2010

song lyric: from Center of my Life

wish that i could wave a wand
and undo every careless word
every friend that i let down
and cries for help i never heard
every chance i never took
and every little lie i tried to hide

and i need You in the center
of my life

for all that i am
and all that i'm not
and all i forgot
and all i've lost
and all that i dream
and all that i do
is calling to You
to be the center
of my life
--

Thursday, November 18, 2010

a christmas riff (part 3)


He and Mary walked together
(now having so much to say to each other)
Arriving in the town of Bethlehem
she having reached full term
they found: no accomodations
no vacancy, no lodging
no place to lay down and give birth
except a dark stinking barn
with a filthy feeding trough

They were revolted at the thought--
this didn’t fit the lofty script
that the angel had spelled out
The High Prince that Mary carried
could not be delivered in a dark corner
of a smelly shed where the livestock lay

They stopped, took it in, and then they breathed
and in their shaky way, believed
Since there be no other way
Here we are for God, said they
Let it be 
Let it be

That same evening
(though they were hard to see)
there were sheepkeepers out there in the field
night watchmen for the flocks
Their hearts were nearly stopped
by a visit from the angel messenger
brighter than noon in the darkest of night
blinded were they by the brilliance of God

Don’t.. be.. afraid--
No fear, said the envoy to the sheepkeepers
Drop everything
go into town
search the stables
and you will find the sign--

a baby
in a feeding trough

Then there rose up
splitting open the night
angel upon angel upon angel
in waves across the sky
like the Northern Lights
only infinitely brighter
a song far deeper than any human choir
ascending into heaven
and leaving them behind

They fell over themselves
running hard into the town
pounding pavement
throwing open barn doors
heaving open wooden gates
until they found


the man Joseph

his fiancé Mary
  
and then

they saw
wrapped up in rags
the One
who was given His name
long, long before any of them were born:

Immanuel:

God
With
Us
--

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

a christmas riff (part 2)


Joseph
on the other hand
when she told him,
was stunned and shaken
devastated
that his promised young woman
had already been
...taken

He made up his mind
to be civil about the thing
and to quietly break the engagement
putting her away without staining her name

The two walked in silence
He had nothing to say to her
she had so much to say to him
but he couldn’t hear it
he couldn’t bear it
until...

He lay down and dreamed
an uneasy dream
and the messenger came
and at first took his breath clean away--
The angel calmed him down
(which was no easy task)
and then explained:

Don’t.. be.. afraid--
No fear, Joseph
Nothing has been stolen from you
This is instead a perfect gift from the Most High
that in time you will come to understand:
Within Mary is conceived a man
who will save this limping planet from its own sorry self

Joseph breathed, long and deep
This is more than my heart can handle, said he
but..
I will find a way 
and I am...
at the service
of my God
--

Monday, November 15, 2010

a christmas riff (part 1)


In those days
half the planet was on the road
everyone traveling to the town of their birth
to sign on the dotted line
at the command of Augustus Caesar
king of the world. 

The man Joseph,
and Mary his fiancé,
were well on their way
to his own home town, Bethlehem.

Long before their wedding vows
would ever be taken
Mary had been awakened
her eyes were opened
and her spirit shaken
by a heaven sent messenger.

You are favored, the angel said
Lifted skyward by the Most High God
Among every woman on this messed up planet
You are most--- blessed--- of all

She was flabbergasted--
(It was quite a hello)

Don’t be afraid--
No fear
said the envoy
Out of all the possibles 
He has chosen You--
You are going to be pregnant
by the breath of God,
the Holy One

It will be a boy child
and He already has a name—
God
With
Us.

I don’t understand, said Mary.
You seem to know all things--
You must know I’ve never been with a man

Peace... said the emissary,
the Wind, the Spirit, will shadow you
and within yourself you will know it’s true
the inconceivable conceived in you
from the heart of the Holy One
and this is the hope
that the earth has been crying for

Mary listened,
took it in,
breathed
and somehow... she believed.
Here I am for God, said she
Let it be
Let it be
---

Bowie

This weekend Rinne and I had to say goodbye to our angel dog, Bowie, who was very ill. This was harder than words can say.  He was as close as a child would be to us--we have no children.  It was and is a spiritual bond.  God taught us a graduate level course in His own love through this amazing creature.  I keep reminding myself that the great love is worth the pain of the loss.  And in my head I know it's true.  But right now it just plain hurts in our souls.

Monday, November 1, 2010

choir planet manifesto

ask me where my help comes from
ask me how I stay strong
how I ascend the heights
and don’t turn my ankle
on the jagged stones

we lean our weight into the dynamo of the almighty God
our eyes and our hope are firmly fixed
on the reach and the scope
of the love and the power
of the Infinite One

our food is to do the will of the One who sent us
our drink is the Wellspring of living water

He is our peace
who has broken down every dividing wall
He is our confidence,
our firm place to stand
our everpresent hope

everwatchful eyes searching to and fro
evershielding arms reaching out to hold
lifting and rescuing

the consolation of the nations
the release
the relief

he is our joy our light
the delight of our hearts
the lifter of our heads
securer of our souls
the air that fills our lungs
the Spirit who guides us
and  propels us forward

He is our sustenance, our tenacity
He is before all things
and in Him all things hold together
He is our everlasting to everlasting

the very blood in my veins
is redeemed and claimed
by the blood of Another

so here I stand 
I can do no other

  --

give us this day

Our Father in heaven
Our Father in heaven

Holy be your name
Fill the profane
With the sacred the numinous
The mysterious
That which the seers and seekers
Have sought for centuries
And find now just within their reach
Just beyond the power of speech
to explain to describe this pearl of great price
That monks and kings alike
have sold everything to obtain
Letting go of the world for the ultimate prize
They gladly gave it all to gain.

Your Kingdom come
Into the dark alleys and the gray slums and the green suburbs
The gleaming cities and centers of power
The concrete streets where the gunshots ring in the dead of night
Flood us all with your clarity
Your brilliant light
Would you set us right
O Father set us right

Your will be done
When hope bleeds out
And dubious trust gives way to doubt
And character slides down into darker greed
And self-absorption drowns out the aching need
Injustice rears its ugly head
And feeds upon the helpless and the innocent
And conscience is numb and remorse is next to dead
O God lift the bowed heads and breathe out hope
Into the parched lungs that need it most
Bring us safely back into the fold
Restore to us the joy of old we used to hold
Bring every last one safely home
Your will be done
Your will be done

Give us this day
To make the most of
To work to help to love to learn
To lead to meet the need
To give our all to give our utmost
The best hours of every day
The best dreams the highest aspirations
The great expectations
Of a world made brand new
Of a kingdom built and forged by You
The city with foundations
Of redemption reconstruction of every beating heart
Lives given the chance to restart
Be reborn reclaimed renewed
Unfolding ever growing ever learning
To be yours to reach for you
With body mind heart and soul
This our highest goal
This our fondest thought
Capturing our imagination
Overcoming our hesitation
The vision we can almost see
Around every corner
The power the glory
Forever and ever


No matter what we face
Between the now and what is to be
Come what may
Give us this day
Give us this day
--

worship under the microscope

is there any worship in me really

is there a heart that searches up to You

(yes daily I instinctively  give you that)

is there a lifting up of you in my Spirit

You- the one that is true

You- the one that takes it  all willingly in

and finds ways to sneak comfort into my insides hourly

even when I can only stand to have my heart broken once a day

and the quota is exceeded



even when I am so weak I brittle up to You

and bleed out my requests daily and paltry up my thanks

throwing you offhanded perfunctories

as if they were somehow significant



this is worship?

how often do I dimple my knees with actual floor friction

how often do I still my overcooked heart

and serve you up something real

how often do I even enter into the anatomy of thanks

deeper than surface

deeper than skin

deeper than the shallow end of the pool

deeper than tossed off words

scrawled onto paper and forgotten

deeper than the paper they’re casually scribbled onto


without a surgery of thanks how does it become real

I should at least ruffle it up

and not let it be so clean and buttoned down



and what do You see in me.

why do you accept my raw and selfish scrawlings

as any worship at all?
--

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