Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Oscar


In memory of Oscar Romero (1917–1980)
A Future Not Our Own
It helps now and then to step back and take a long view.
The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a fraction
of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of
saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession
brings perfection, no pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives include everything.
This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one
day will grow. We water the seeds already planted
knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces effects
far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of
liberation in realizing this.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning,
a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's
grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the
difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders, ministers, not
messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.
From Xavarian Missionaries:
Oscar A. Romero, Archbishop of San Salvador, in El Salvador, was assassinated on March 24, 1980, while celebrating Mass in a small chapel in a cancer hospital where he lived. He had always been close to his people, preached a prophetic gospel, denouncing the injustice in his country and supporting the development of popular and mass organizations. He became the voice of the Salvadoran people when all other channels of expression had been crushed by the repression.
This prayer was composed by Bishop Ken Untener of Saginaw, drafted for a homily by Card. John Dearden in Nov. 1979 for a celebration of departed priests. As a reflection on the anniversary of the martyrdom of Bishop Romero, Bishop Untener included it in a reflection titled "The mystery of the Romero Prayer." The mystery is that the words of the prayer are attributed to Oscar Romero, but they were never spoken by him.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

The Donkey


When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Echo of Ashes

Preacher man made it down to South Texas late last night and they are well on their way into Mexico by now. Me and the herd... well... we're working on a plan, yeah that's it, a big plan! 


I planted basil and dill in pots this morning, in fact, I beat the rain that's moving in as I write. Putting them in pots will allow a fork lift to be placed under them so they can be transported to our next location. I also took the dogs for a short walk and I had a protein shake. Got my study done and had some really awesome God time so now I guess I have to get busy with something that needs to be done. Posting a blog!


I found this is a Joyce Rupp book that I have. I know we are already pass Ash Wednesday, but I felt the need to share this with you. For me, it draws me to a deeper place, a more mindful place. I hope it does the same for you.


The Echo of Ashes

"Remember you are dust 
and to dust you shall return."

the large brown bowl
rests on a purple cloth
its roundness holding ashes
freshly burned
black and ready for wearing.

blackened thumbs
press the ancient sign
upon the waiting foreheads.

I hear the message repeated
until it haunts and hunts me down:
remember, remember, remember
you are dust, dust, only dust
someday only dust will remain.

the echo of the Lent-stained ashes
speaks the truth of my humanity:
the humbleness of my beginning,
the simplicity of my departure.

A few wise words
echoing through Ash Wednesday
urge me to deeper things:
renewed dedication,
constant compassion,
and mindful awareness.

I leave marveling
at how simple and sublime
is this envelope of the soul,
which one day returns
to dust, dust, only dust.
~Joyce Rupp~  

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Peace Prayer


Saint Francis of Assisi (1182–1226)
The Peace Prayer of Saint Francis
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is error, truth;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love. 
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
It is in self-forgetting that we find;
And it is in dying to ourselves that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.
We do not know the author of this classic prayer, and it was not until the 1920s that it was even ascribed to Saint Francis.  By one account the prayer was found in 1915 in Normandy, written on the back of a card of Saint Francis.  But it certainly emulates his longing to be an instrument of peace, reconciliation and redemption in our fallen world.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Recant

I have to recant from my last posting and I so hate to do that. I like to think that I know what I'm talking about, most of the time anyway! It surprises me that no one commented on the fact the Highway 71 is not "The pig Trail"! I had to hear it from an ATS grad that lives in the state and he's not even a 'follower'. So here it is...Preacher man and I were not on the pig trail, we were on highway 71. Highway 23 is the pig trail. Give me a break, I've only been back for a little over a year and this side of the state is foreign to me anyway! Forgive me? When we do go to the pig trail, I will pay better attention to where I am and what I'm doing!


So this is what I found that I want to share with you today!


Today I have a choice: to live unsatisfied and 
distracted by a life-yet-to-be or to live now-
 to enter into, to be present to, to savor THIS life.
~Terry Hershey


Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Touched by an Angel


Maya Angelou (b. 1928)
"Touched by an Angel"

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.