But to Jonah this seemed very wrong, and he became angry. Jonah 4:1 It’s all too easy to judge Jonah. Easy also to declare that, because all anger is at its heart a desire to be in the place of God, it should simply respond to a biblical rebuke and go away. Seeing anger thisContinue reading “Advent with the Prophet Jonah: Day 16”
When God saw what they did and how they turned from their evil ways, he relented and did not bring on them the destruction he had threatened. Jonah 3:10 This should really be where the book of Jonah finishes. And in many children’s bible versions, it does finish here. The narrative arc of the disobedientContinue reading “Advent with the Prophet Jonah: Day 15”
If words fail, being only breath,Look to the one who was himselfThe Word, though many said not.Look to the one whose lastBreath, crushed by Satan’sKnee, was “Forgive.”Look to HimAnd keepFaith.
Lent ends with a mirror: I am the mocker, the spitter, the thief. Like a child resenting their small role in the pageant, I greet grace with a petulant, What about me? This is me. My role is the soldier with the reed and the crown, the voice crying, Crucify! and, Messiah, come down. I’mContinue reading “Good Friday”
We travel through cosmic debris. All the time a war wages – starshower missiles, misguided asteroids. The mayhem is our doing. Harmony – meant to be sung – ended with us. Begin again with us. From ashes we stand, cupped hands opened to receive, to re-enter Your orbit. (Inspired by this translation of Nelly Sachs:Continue reading “From dust and ashes (After a poem by Nelly Sachs)”
The text is darker in this weather, more emphatic, as though while he wrote, outside prison walls Saint Paul saw the fall of some Ephesian rain-drops and thought: If my plea should fall on hard soil… Did he see the runaway slave in the wet, uncertain, standing at his master’s door,Continue reading “Rainy Day Sermon”
Acknowledgment sounds with our morning yawn: We have been in need; we have been held safe. And the quiet of the dawn routine declares That we are weak, are strangers to this day. Awaken slowly. Infants in the world, What will you do now? Fresh from the night’s grace, Will you shake your horn’s fistContinue reading “Debt”
Jeffrey Smart painted this dying day: burnt orange in floating smokestack steam, needle-lights stretching in fluorescent dream, the sojourn of light sinking in silent sway. Daytime paints its canopy away and minutes pass in inches as we glean each moment, weigh each instant gram by gram. Apologies buy flowers; much to say, yet time isContinue reading “Northbound at dusk”