What sort of personal meaning can any of us extract from the current state of religious affairs, which is very strange?
Although the less-than-virtuous, the Toms and Hucks of this world, are constant threats—and thus the grounds for unremitting vigilance, if not outright alarmism—the posse of the virtuous remains snug and smug. Inwardly, they are rigid as dress parade soldiers standing at dutiful attention. Goodness is theirs.
Young prodigy. Has a way with words. Brings someone out of a coma. Preaches peace, rages against bankers, tries his hand at carpentry, sexy woman loves him, meets his friends for dinner every week, they drink wine, talk, he says smart things, then, random as the rest of us, he’s killed. Gets to ascend to heaven.
Throughout history, artists have created images of Christ that speak to different communities.
In the past three months, two people in the United States have taken or risked taking their own lives in an attempt to change U.S. policies on Palestine and call for a cease-fire.
Yo, Viking dudes, who knew your big-dog cock-of-the-walk
raping and pillaging would put us all here, right smack
dab in the middle of a decade filled with the stink
of war.
I fled Him down the nights and down the days
I fled Him down the arches of the years
I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind…
I’m not a healer, though maybe
I am—my ordinary hands laid on the scathing past
to cool its sear, my palms a bowl cupping
the last drop of day in blind descent.
Just as foods undergo significant changes, evolving into something more intricate and nuanced, we, too, experience compelling transformations in our lives.
I’ll fly away, oh, Glory
I’ll fly away
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by
I’ll fly away
What resides within Christianity… is the God-person whose life and times were radical and disruptive.
My grandmother didn’t
live to see her youngest son, my father, murdered in a Brooklyn
gutter by a fifth generation, drug-addicted, unemployed house-
painter whose ancestors were dragged here like devils in chains.
The secret is in the vigil of watching and listening…
then The Sun This Morning : one round, middle C