people of the passion.pdf

8/3/2019 people of the passion.pdf

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The Anawhimsical Literati

don't take solace in the notion

that few will ever escape

the academic gulag archipelago

to pillage, plunder and rape

the literary modalities and language conventions;

forewarned is now forearmed

sTYLe iS conTEnT ! foRm 'tis sUbstancE !

is taught in their bAck waRds?

this here medIuM is mY meSsage

and my mcCluhanesque disregard

broke me out of that asylum

with literary superego never formed

+++

this literati mouse will never roar

nor disturb your publishing housing

suffering no nhihil obstatic rage

censors liborum there arousing

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with pentameter uniambic, lacking onomotopoeia, running free

ugly blackbird, caged, is singing, in the middle of Dark Nights

enraged nightengale is winging over there to silence His Delight

but the orthodoxy prison lost its captive! warbling Logos? escapee!

++

in the beginning was the Word,

then utmost Silence making us wary

in the interim there came Jesus

as the Father's poetic commentary

but some would have none of it

and they gave Him back His Gift

suffer me no notions preconceived,

Barrabas-giving consensus gentiums

or I'll miss Him when She returns again

at the Wiccan Woods Convention

no signs or portents shall distract me from my Lover, or boy will I be miffed!

johnboy

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Kung Lite

solipsism out of a wet paper bag

never fighting its metaphysical way

because it is radically empirical

objective bicsuits of reality never cook

in subjectivism's oven

oven set always on hermeneutical

the immanent hungering for transcendence

the apophatic being a liturgical burger short at the happy meal of celebrations theological

the transcendent starving for immanence

the kataphatic lacking a numinous sandwich at the picnic of the mystically existential

elevators of skeptics don't go to the top

lights of credulous on with nobody home

watch the aesthetes and ascetics go bust

tao, dharma and logos forsaking either-or

for paradox, mystery, creative tension, both-and proofs surrendering to fundamental trust

johnboy

Flexegesis of I Corinthians 12

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What we bring to humanity's table

is unique or have they told ya?

That is why I'll never try here

to remake or to remold ya.

With a unity of mission

and with ministries so diverse,

To deny e pluribus unum

would engender a hellish curse.

We've clues to how things are in heaven,

knowing how things are on earth,

With every strength and every weakness

from nature, nurture or from birth.

In heaven, the British are policeman,

French chefs cook for Italian lovers;

the mechanics there are German;

the Swiss run a government, like no others.

Now hell's not very different,

just the people take new roles.

As you try to make them like you,

What a mockery there unfolds.

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The Italians run the government

and the Germans are police;

The British cook for cold Swiss lovers

in the French mechanics' grease.

When the Lord God made each woman,

When the Goddess made each man,

He knew what He was doing

As She fashioned creation's plan.

At the height of this creation

With a most resplendent beauty,

People contribute quite uniquely

Each according to their duty.

So I'll take this lesson here

Not to refashion or remold ya.

But should Eternity become a problem

It won't be cause I haven't told ya!

johnboy

9999 End of Program, A Metanoia

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tomorrow is a special day: nine, nine, ninety-nine

corresponding to computer code

encountered at that cyber node

at the end of my program line

i will celebrate tomorrow

by emptying my cache

many tapes to be overwritten

bytes in memory that aren't fitting

algorithms to dump to trash

general protection faults abounding:

my needs to be right and to be perceived so

to be consulted and understood, to know

alarms within me ever-sounding

invalid parameters finding

emotional habits of fear

neuroses always near

defense mechanisms binding

my dignity and "worthies" feeding

image of God ever-distorted

leaving self and others broken-hearted

critical error requires deleting

a program, conditional love, of course

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has many programs crashed of late

must find a way to terminate

love's fatal virus or trojan horse

soon with code rewritten, every line

end of virulent program executing

in metanoia and with grace rebooting

gonna party like its nineteen, ninety nine

9/9/99 End of Program: Conditional Love

johnboy

The Kings Gambit

For, what if life were a game of chess?

The goal of the game is checkmate. Checkmate is the

arrangement of pieces in such a manner that you are eternally

and inescapably captured by God. Once so captured, unspeakable

eternal bliss ensues:

We'll have all been there ten thousand years !

Bright shining as the sun !

Each generation's moms and dads !

Each daughter and each son !

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The loves we'll have shared continuing on !

The pains we'll have shared forgotten !

With the God we'll have known from ages hence !

From Mary's womb begotten !

in a "place"...where ...All human fellowship, every trace of

human goodness, all wholesome trivialities ... what no eye has

seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived ... will

be eternalized (cf. Kung). The unitive life is one of utter

fulfillment. Salvation includes our attainment of the maximum

aesthetic value, our realization of unspeakable joy, our

consummate justification, sanctification and glorification !

To return to our metaphor: God is willing to "queen a pawn"

even as we are checkmated. And there was one peasant, one

lowly one whose Assumption and Coronation is an object lesson

for us all as we work out our destinies.

There is no possibility of your checkmating God.

There does come a point during the game of life, however,

where you get one last move before either a checkmate (by God)

or a stalemate. The "limbo" which ensues from a stalemate is

your doing, alone. For it is here that we answer the age-old

question: "Can God make a rock so big that He can not pick it

up ?" And the answer is yes; that rock is the divinely created

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human will.

Regarding all other pieces on the chessboard, these represent

for you all the persons, places, things, events and

circumstances of existence. EVERY SINGLE TIME you move, God

recontrives and reconfigures and reconstructs the ENTIRE

CHESSBOARD in such a manner that YOU are BEST POSITIONED to

ATTAIN the UTMOST SANCTIFICATION. Meditate and understand this

part of the game for it is foundational. To repeat this

principle, God counters your every move and progressively

positions you for checkmate. God's repositioning of your

life's pieces ALWAYS optimally places you in maximum

"jeopardy" of an imminent "checkmate".

The above sentiment seems quite presumptuous ? That He would

condescend to interact with your every move ? that He would

counter your every thought, word or deed, your every sin or

error of omission or of commission ? that He (the White King),

in union with Mary (the White Queen) and all the other angels

and saints (the other white pieces), is continually and

intimately involved in the minutiae of your daily life ? that

God is stooping to an undignified meddling with the petty

affairs of your petty world (cf. Rahner 1946) ? that God is

adjusting and rearranging what was created as already adequate

in itself ? that all wholesome trivialities are somehow being

captured on some sort of ethereal, maxi-cam film by an

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omnipresent family videophile where they will be run and rerun

as an ever new, ever invigorating recreational

eternal-home-video, multimedia, virtual reality extravaganza ?

Now I know that it is quite an exercise to image God's chess

game with you, but now, realize that He's "playing" with every

other human being that has ever lived, lives now or is yet to

live!

This metaphor, as any, will eventually collapse and become

inadequate, but let me stretch it for now.

Not only is God playing chess with you. He's playing billions

of others, too! Now we've all seen chess masters on TV or

perhaps on the Internet who play many folks at once. Is it too

big a stretch, therefore, to imagine that God can play all of

us at once ?

The board game is not merely two dimensional in the chess game

of life; it has no spatio-temporal boundaries ! Furthermore,

you will wake up one day and realize that you and God aren't

playing on "your" very own game board; there are no separate

game boards. We are all people, through all of time, playing on

ONE GIGANTIC BOARD and every move you or I or anyone else

makes reconfigures the game for ALL players who've not yet

been checkmated or stalemated ! God's moves, in counter to

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each of ours, are instantaneous and COMPLETELY and UTTERLY

EFFICACIOUS in the same manner already described above. His

moves, in response to every trace of a frown or beginning of a

smile of every living human, recontrive and reconfigure and

reconstruct the ENTIRE CHESSBOARD in such a manner that ALL

are BEST POSITIONED to ATTAIN the UTMOST SANCTIFICATION !

In the game, you may ask, what about the black pieces ? We

aren't black; we are without Light. There are angels of

darkness who are working untiringly to have you stalemated.

Here we can explore the mechanics of some of the moves.

We can take up a position, a posture, of defense against God.

We can seek to cooperate or to counter His every move.

There comes a point, during every game, where one begins to

glimpse the strategy of the other player. We can AWAKEN to HIS

goals and aims and purposes and designs and begin a dance

toward our eternal destiny, arriving as a pawn awaiting one of

various levels of glorification in the eternal realms,

awaiting capture and ensuing rapture.

More often, early in the game, we don't discern the OTHER's

strategy. We look at the moves of the other pieces, moves

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often seemingly directed against our fulfillment; we despair

of any notion that God's countermoves are ABSOLUTELY

EFFICACIOUS regarding our ongoing sanctification and ultimate

fulfillment. We are desensitized to His moves and overly

sensitive to the moves of all the other pieces and players.

We plan strategies on our own with a clear vision of what our

aims and goals may be, all noble, all seemingly true. And,

unfailingly, we get in situations that are way over our heads.

We attempt various gambits and tradeoffs, all to no avail and

sometimes we've deployed strategies for a very, long duration

that yield no fruitful results.

Eventually, we come to realize that other people's moves and

strategies are not allowed to affect OUR POSITION on the

board (to our detriment). Before they could possibly impact

our optimal position, God has already accomplished for us, the

reconfigurings and recontrivances and rearrangements that

construe in grand confluence toward our utmost sanctification

and ultimate fulfillment ! Paradoxically (and there are many

mysteries involved), while no one can affect another's

position to their detriment, we can, if we join the dance

(matching our Creator move for move with our gaze fixed on Him

alone) participate in the optimal positioning of others! We

can join in His work of salvation and checkmating others. This

is accomplished only through Grace and not by mere human

strivings. Our justification and that of others was

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accomplished in a very unique move, The KING's Gambit, whereby

the King placed himself (as in castling) between two other

pieces (incarnation, death and resurrection). Our

justification, His Grand Condescension, was a free gift; no

move was involved on our part. Our sanctification does require

our cooperation through grace, an unmerited but freely

bestowed grace. Through grace, He signs our dance cards and

through our efforts we can attempt to match His steps, for in

this now-mixed, metaphor of dance and chess, it takes two to

tango, two to play the game. He likes to use us to optimally

position others, either with our wills aligned or not. If we

align our wills as best we can, we participate in the grand

choreography of others' salvation (however mysteriously). If

we don't align our wills, He'll accomplish others' salvation

and sanctification (mysteriously) in spite of us, even using

our unaligned willful, physical actions ! (This is a reference

to His permissive will and Divine Providence).

Like a chess book filled with various game moves and

strategies, or like a computer programmed to counter every

possible move we make in a chess game (unfailingly toward our

ultimate checkmate), God in His omniscience knows/knew our

every move; His every countermove He also knows/knew.

Think of the umpteen, gigagillion moves stored in the Great

Cyber-Godhead and think of how He in His omnipotence CAN

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ACCOMPLISH ALL that I set forth above.

The computer chess game metaphor, wherein God's simultaneously

playing billions of players in the Universal Interactive Video

Arcade allows INTIMACY, allows DIVINE PROMPTINGS and fosters

PRAYER of trustful surrender and abandonment to His Will and

Providence, of Thanksgiving, of Praise, of Adoration, of

Forgiveness, of Petition.

Who among us has danced the perfect dance or played the

perfect chess game ? For you shall seek Him and you shall find

Him when you search for Him with ALL YOUR HEART. This, I've

not yet done. But even then, I've glimpsed some meaning. I've

tasted some first fruits. I've seen in a mirror, however

dimly, THE MAJESTY AND GLORY AND LOVE OF GOD. I'm willing to

try THE KING's GAMBIT.

As in chess, in life, it's typically not individual moves or

single, apparent blunders that place one in jeopardy of

losing the game. It is your fundamental orientation, the core

of your being which postures you and places you through a

series of moves and countermoves in a position for a final,

favorable or unfavorable, outcome.

We must accept our innate poverty if we are to dance our way

through the game, matching his moves (Will) with ours. We must

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trust His Gambits which place us in what we sometimes feel is

apparent jeopardy but later positions us for a seemingly easy

CHECKMATE. In chess, an apparent blunder, which later opens the

way to a supremely advantageous position, is known as a

"sacrifice".

The Omega Point theorists and many-world reality physicists

have advanced the notion of a possible reality wherein all

possible eventualities\potentialities exist side by side,

bifurcation by bifurcation, permutation by permutation,

template by template ... sometimes in a perpetual

collapsing-expanding universe ... sometimes with

cyberspace-real space overlap ... and manifold other mental

constructions. This is partly how I conceive the big computer

chess game of the universe. However, because of the

divinely-created human will, no predestination paradigm is

allowed; no precision clock-work model suffices. Every time we

move, EVERY SINGLE time, God moves. His fundamental

orientation in exercising His strategy is unswaveringly

dedicated toward our Supreme Good. Potentialities, as many as

they are, are either realized or unrealized based on both

God's actions AND our actions/inactions.

In an aesthetic teleology the appropriation of novelty and the

shedding of monotony are required for beauty. In

nonequilibrium thermodynamics, dissipative structures which

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are very complicated arise from chaos. The more complicated a

system, the more permutations and bifurcations involved in

forming a structure, the greater the instability, the greater

the number of points at which its existence is threatened AND

the more beautiful. So, too, in this giant chess game of the

unfolding universe. The number of players and moves that God

is involved with seems to have us all perched precariously

between existence and nonexistence; beauty is brushed, stroke

by stroke, upon a blank canvas of utter nothingness. We and

all beauty, truth, justice and love are all threatened with

disintegration; meaning is threatened by absurdity; being by

nonbeing; faith by nihilism. All of the possible moves are

there on the Eternal Template, a collection of "1's" and "0's"

being written by every submission to or rebellion against His

Will. What will be realized ? potentialized ? eternalized ?

Our moves are generally categorized as coming from a posture

of sovereignty or of stewardship. Either we are being willful

or willing (however strong-willed we may be). Either we are

gazing at the world, the flesh and the devil or at the Father,

the Son and the Spirit. In stewardship, our moves involve our

time, our talent and our treasure deployed through prayerful

discernment in conformity to His Will. In sovereignty, our

moves involve our time, talent and treasure deployed through

craft and cunning in conformity to Our Will.

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But the world was created by the Father. The flesh was taken

on by the Son. The devil was conquered by the Holy Spirit.

His moves are generally categorized as coming from a posture

of paternity, of fraternity and are known as consolation and

desolation. We experience all of life as consolation or

desolation in accordance with our physical, emotional, mental

and spiritual faculties. All consolation and desolation are

gifts for our transformation. All consolation and desolation

comprise the process by which God moves in the chess game.

For instance, we move. Our move is from a sovereign

orientation and involves time, talent or treasure. Then, God

moves. It involves desolation.

We move again. Our move is from a steward's orientation. Then,

God moves. It involves consolation or desolation. Wait a

minute ! It's not as simple as we thought ! But Ignatius has

written a chess game manual explaining some of God's moves; so

has Teresa and John of the Cross; de Caussade and Saint-Jure'

and Metz and Rahner and Colombiere. St. Francis' poverty was a

foundational willingness to let the Master call the shots,

decide the moves. Detachment, indifference and dispossession

have no merit of their own but are the saints' tools of trade,

their way of better ensuring their posture as one of

stewardship versus sovereignty. Poverty, chastity and

obedience are utter folly if they are not derived from the

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fundamental core of a human being attempting alignment with

the Father's Will. Can't be a sovereign if I own nothing, need

nothing, want nothing. The Lord is My Shepherd; no want, no

fear, I know. There can be no riches to honor to pride, no

"this is mine; look at me; I am". We let go of individual

moves; we win the game. We let go of individual notes,

measures, bars and scores; we gain the symphony.

Julian of Norwich has summed it up: all manner of things shall

be well. Scott Peck has a nice metaphor: We are in a "cosmic

boot camp" learning how to love. We are here learning to

conform our wills to His Will.

Some game board circumstances appear irredeemable. None of this

dismisses the temporal pain and suffering or seeks to address

it. Suffice it to say that our temporal impoverishments are no

comparison for our Eternal Enrichments. The scales of the

Eternal Enrichment balance quite simply can not be used to

measure our temporal impoverishments. Karl Rahner, back in

1946,( years before He got even brighter than he already was)

sums it up: "We profess our belief in the everlasting

happiness of heaven, but we want from this life as much

comfort as is demanded by those whose thoughts do not reach

beyond it." Ouch !

Our need to be in control, to be right, for power ...

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our fear of failure, of pain ... our focus on the temporal to

the exclusion of the Eternal ... all make for some pretty

sub optimal moves on our part. Sure, He will reconfigure

everything continually for your optimal sanctification 'til

your last breath ! The sub optimization that results comes

about as you forgo the opportunities to participate in others'

sanctification. You'll arrive in paradise with only your own

soul (as one who's escaped through a fire). He would have you

participate in His choreography. He'll even let you suggest

moves and will honor your suggestions if they serve to

optimally reconfigure the global board positions for all. But

.. your will must be conformed to His Will and you will have

to long study His strategies before You are allowed to look

over the shoulder of the Master and suggest countermoves ! And

as in chess, believe it or not, an optimal position can come

about from many different moves, some as good as any other !

He'll let you choose a few, if you seek first His Kingdom ! if

you're coming from the posture of stewardship and not acting

as a sovereign.

As ongoing physical deportment effects posture, so too

our habitual spiritual deportment will effect our lasting

spiritual posture. Be aware of the cumulative effect of many

moves. Too much sovereignty as opposed to stewardship and

you'll inherit your own version of a kingdom and not His

Kingdom. During a sacrifice or gambit orchestrated by God, you

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needn't defend yourself ! In His Last Great Move as a human,

He abandoned Himself to His Father's Will in agony, in seeming

total defeat ! Then ... ... ... CHECKMATE !!!

Again, Rahner: "With a worldly shrewdness ..., we want our

'bird in the hand' as well as our 'birds in the bush' -

happiness here as well as hereafter- in fact, the best of both

worlds." ..."Christ has answered our questions by teaching us

how to pray. He has taught us to pray in words of direct

supplication, of holy confidence, of complete submission."

From the words of Rahner and of Christ's teaching (cf. the Our

Father), it is clear to me that prayers of petition, our

suggestions in the great chess game of life, are heard and

even solicited. But shouldn't we first observe His strategy

and glimpse His otherwise inscrutable mastery of the game

before presuming that our will is aligned with His ? Our

wills are becoming aligned when we recognize the plural noun

and verb forms of the Our Father. Perfectly unmoved and

content with others' misfortunes (think, for instance, of the

millions of parents who lost millions of children who died

last year), all of a sudden we have a theodicy problem when

tragedy overtakes "us" ! If you're going to have a faith

crisis or theodicy confrontation with God, it's best you get

on with now while all is well with "your" world. Then, you'll

better understand and appreciate how the mystics can claim:

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all will be well. 'Cause ... assuredly, all manner of things

will be well ! but not per your petty agenda. Your so

concerned cause someone took your pawn with their knight !

Wake Up ! Look at the rest of the board.

O.K. now, your move.

Liminal Threshold Fun Cool

i love the marshland's looks and sounds

for my childhood was taken up there

through mile after mile of broken, bent reeds

i passed time with never a care

on the opposite side was the river,

it travelled from way up north

thousands of miles it came to deliver

what no one had beckoned forth

for countless hours we'd play on its banks

making cowbellies in its dark mud

she freely bestowed gifts of driftwood and fish

and, when ships passed, her foaming white suds

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but the childhood memory that stays with me most?

bright brilliant Saturday afternoons

my grandmother'd take me inside that dark church

where she'd hum hauntingly beautiful tunes

it was otherwise silent and reverent and holy

sweet scented candles burned everywhere

but the light that intrigued me burns in my memory still

'twas a red flame that was glowing up *there *

maybe 'cause i was so very little back then

or perhaps the altar so very tall

the light from the candle inside that red glass

seemed so very awfully small

yet all the attention seemed pointed that way

'twas where steps led up to the big cross

and on it there hung this pitiful man

prompting memories of people i'd loss

near his feet between bouquets of flowers

the ones that my grandmother had brought

was a little gold house with a little white veil

where God lives or so i was taught

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she'd smooth out the cloths and linens so white

and polish the chalice of gold

she'd refill crucibles with water and wine

that the next day would be blood i was told

well imagine the awe in an eight year boy

soaking up everything grandmother taught

imagine the thoughts that would run through his mind

the impressions that all of this wrought

there were questions that would arrive later

but for then we just stayed to our task

years after she died and i'd grown and moved on

there was no one i was willing to ask

for they all seemed to buy into grandmother's scheme

for meaning and purpose in life

they never would question or wonder or dream

and who was i to invite them to strife?

their strife was o'er, their battle won

never a doubt assailed firm beliefs

as for me, my battle was just beginning

of angst and of fear and of grief

may i decrease and you increase

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was my constant vigil and prayer

til others might have a problem here

in knowing who's standing there

i willed to become like the man on the cross

who lived in that little gold house

but the faith my grandmother had given was gone

or was as small as that tiny church mouse

i continued to go through the actions of faith

and in time i raised kids of my own

taught them all the things that my grandmother'd taught

planted all the same seeds that she'd sown

as for me, in the meantime, i delved into books

theology, philosophy and prayer

but the feelings of bright, sunny Saturday noons

in church--- never returned to me there

i resolved to do everything "just because"

and forsaking my reasoning mind

i decided i'd wait for my God to return

in His own due season and time

i believed in goodness and beauty and truth

though they seemed to lack any support

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was the universe friendly? was meaning intact?

would life's loves just some day abort?

for the heat death of the universe

is a verity simple to know

it'll all burn out without fanfare or care

with not even an afterglow

but some folks talk of an afterlife

full of goodness and beauty and truth

with their loved ones and the man on the cross

all the prophets, Naomi and Ruth

fearful souls harbor such feeble glad thoughts

and i'm glad it consoles them so

as for me and my people i'd like the same, too

but how is one ever to know?

is there primal ground and primal being?

unconditional truth and meaning?

all i could do was to take that leap

with no visible prop for the leaning

i would cling to beauty just because

of the hold that it had on me

as for goodness and truth

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i surrendered there, too

unconditionally

i gave up the fight and let everything go

and abandoned myself to the flow

only truth and beauty and goodness perdured

no other god would i know

and i thought long and hard about all my desires

of the assurances and convictions i lacked

if i had them what would i do differently?

and no answers ever came back

in the dark night of faith, in love i'd persist

giving up my long search for the grail

the journey became my destination

on an ocean of love i would sail

and that ocean was silent, gave never a clue

of its origins, its depths or its floor

but it gently caressed me and placed me down

on the sands where it kisses its shore

and the sights there were vaguely familiar

for i awakened in marsh grass and reeds

right close to the river and next to the church

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where grandmother had planted her seeds

still everything differed while all was the same

it was something within me had changed

other people went on with their business

but my programs had been rearranged

i no longer cared what they thought about me

and i no longer needed their praise

the guilt and the fear that they'd used to control

they could keep for the rest of my days

i had somehow come into to the Oneness

wherein each of us is quite the same

on the other hand and very strangely enough

each still had their very own name

all i did was to sleep a long sleep

all i did was get tired of the pain

all i did was surrender my every desire

every guilt, every fear, every shame

and the moment i quit and gave all of this up

is indelibly etched in my soul

and i'll never go back to the ways of the world

and i'll never rejoin their fold

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all i did was to wake up and see

as if seeing the very first time

my learned habits and fears and lunacy

and the havoc they wreaked in my mind

who told you that God would not love you

unless you conformed to His laws?

who told you that you must act this way or that

in order to win His applause?

well i'm telling you now they were lying

but it's just that they just didn't know

they were only repeating the things that were taught

from ages and ages ago

and i know that this news is quite hard to believe

and that some will continue to sleep

and i'm not trying to change you or shepherd some herd

as if you weren't people but sheep

i'm just dancing my dance and living quite free

and writing my poems and my musings

knowing all shall be well and all is well

despite what we're finding confusing

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i'm telling you, though, to learn to trust

the almost silent voice within

i'm really suggesting you quiet it all down

and learn anew how to begin

for this is mostly about new beginnings

each moment, each second, each day

to see each person and each event

afresh in most every way

for each is brand new and each has become

the sum total of what's gone before

and the sum of that total changes so often

'tis folly to ever keep score

'tis the keeping score that's worst of all

to think winners necessitate losers

there's no merit, reward, recognition

we're all beggars and beggars are choosers

but look at all the good choices

they're all blessed and love-filled and fun

there's no need to compete with each other

for these blessings have only begun

neither death nor life nor angel

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not any principality

can take you away from the Father's love

which is yours for eternity

i tell you again, these blessings are free

the graces are there for the choosing

but you'll never experience this heavenly peace

'til you quit thinking "winning or losing"

you can't win a reward that is already yours

you can't lose what can never be lost

you can't store up treasures to purchase a gift

when it's given without any cost

would you ever turn away from Him?

well know this, that if you should

He'll pursue your love forever

like any parent would

would a lover leave her own beloved?

would a parent ever leave a child?

would a Creator forget a creature?

not even for awhile

the truth, the beauty, the goodness, the love

the solidarity

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are nothing we could ever attain

they simply are, you see?

to see, to look, to gaze in awe

is a very simple task

to wake up and see what's there to see

is all the Master asks

for after you awaken, the task's already done

compassion flows out naturally

we'll be not-two, not-one

the love will flow out unawares

left hands won't know their right

the holy will never know holiness

the seeing will see without sight

self-consciousness will simply disappear

there will be no "me" to harm

we'll all be "I's" inside I AM

we'll all be arm in arm

we'll have all been there ten thousand years

bright shining as the sun

each generation's moms and dads

each daughter and each son

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the loves we'll have shared continuing on

the pains we'll have shared forgotten

with the God we'll have known from ages hence

within each of our hearts begotten

where the doing becomes being

and object and subject are One

apophatic and kataphatic

will be liminal threshold fun !

'til then i'll still enter the darkened church

humming grandmother's light-filled hymns

no longer with thoughts that run through my head

i'll just sit and i'll stare at Him

i'll just sit and i'll gaze at the little red glow

and i'll smile at the little gold house

i'll look up at my friend on the cross as He winks

as He squeaks through that little church mouse

my grandmother will smile, not from up above

but from a dwelling place deep within

and i'll know i'll be with her bye and bye

but there's much to do until then

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like go down to the river and play in the mud

and kick up the dirty white foam

like be anywhere that i happen to be

knowing home is wherever i roam

in the city or the marshland

while at work or when at play

i'll silently gaze at Him everywhere

and here i'll always stay

all i do now is unconditional

all i do now is just because

all i do now is wonder how people can be

the way that i once was

all may be well, all can be well

all will be well i'm certain

all shall be well is all you know

when you pull away the curtain

don't listen to others describing the sights

don't imagine what lies behind

tear open the curtain and look for yourself

the scenery here is just fine

no rights reserved, not copyrighted, tell everyone you wrote it and forward

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it around the world a dozen times ;>Wink johnboy

People of the Passion

Narrator: I asked them of their hopes and dreams

Of how it seemed to them

On a road that led to Calvary

That began in Bethlehem

Mary answered first: "My hopes and dreams,

Every single part of me,

Awaited my Messiah,

With Him I longed to be."

Joseph looked at her and nodded:

"What you just said is true ...

But as for me, my hopes and dreams:

My every thought was you.

"At the time of our betrothal,

The fulfillment of my life

Was to take your hand in marriage,

To take you as my wife."

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"I was first the handmaid of the Lord,"

Said Mary as she smiled,

"But what devastation you endured

When you found I was with child."

Joseph said: "My heart was broken;

How bitterly I wept;

Exhausted in my pain and grief,

How wearily I slept."

Mary smiled: "The angel in your dream

Your every doubt erased;

Then the baby leapt within my womb

When warmly we embraced !"

Joseph: Our road would wind, go up then down,

His way seemed hard to learn.

Mary: But angels came in Joseph's dreams

At every single turn.

Joseph: Like the time we went to Egypt

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Where we stayed 'till Herod died.

Mary: Or when we came back to Israel

And you'd thought the angel'd lied.

Mary: (You see Herod's son took Herod's place

So, again, we'd have to flee).

Joseph: And warned, again, within a dream,

We left for Galilee.

Mary: So, too, on your road with Jesus,

You may find your plans and schemes

Will be readily displaced there

By our Father's hopes and dreams.

Joseph: There'll be times your heart is broken.

There'll be times your dreams are dashed,

When you dwell in desolation,

See no sun, just smoke and ash.

Mary: All will share His Passion and His Death

From the time of their conception;

Those who take life's road with us

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Will share His Resurrection.

Mary: Our road began with the Word of God,

Where a witness, Elizabeth's son,

In a town in the hills of Judah,

Spoke of Jesus, the Chosen One.

Elizabeth: Little boys we carried in our wombs

Knew one another, even there !

And were destined, both, for early tombs,

Any mother's worst nightmare.

Mary: My son was killed by Pilate,

With indignity and disgrace.

Elizabeth: My John was brutally murdered,

Beheaded at Herod's place.

Narrator: I asked of Mary: "What of Pilate ?"

"What of Herod ?" of Elizabeth.

"Of the people who rejected them

Even in Nazareth ?"

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They both were silent, for a while

Then each, in their own turn,

Spoke openly and lovingly

Of the lessons they had learned.

Mary: Like my Joseph, through King David's line,

Did my baby, Jesus, come

A Savior given unto us

Each and every one.

Elizabeth: Yes, adulterers and murderers

Like Herod (King David, too)

Were the reason that Our Lord was born

Mary: And also me and you.

Elizabeth: No it's not for us to understand.

It's not for us to see:

What of David ? Pilate ? Herod ?

Mary: What of them or you or me ?

Mary: Like the criminals murdered with Him

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On His left and on His right

'Til one's dying breath He'll save you

Bathe you in Eternal Light.

Narrator: Elizabeth stood, took Mary's arms.

They embraced with loving tears.

Then as at The Visitation

John and Jesus then appeared !

I watched in silence and in awe

With love and peace and joy,

As with such warmth and tenderness

Each mother hugged her boy.

They were little kids like yours and mine !

With faces oh so fair !

Their mommies kissed their little heads

Ran fingers through their hair.

They pinched their cheeks, held little faces

In between each hand,

Looked proudly down into their eyes

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Each mother's little man.

There they saw the face of God and lived

As the prophet said they'd see.

They all stared in little Jesus' face

Then turned and said to me:

All: We'll have all been there ten thousand years

Bright shining as the sun

Each generation's moms and dads

Each daughter and each son;

The loves we'll have shared continuing on,

The pains we'll have shared forgotten,

With the God we'll have known from ages hence

From Mary's womb begotten.

For nothing can quench the love of God

Not anguish nor distress

Persecution, famine nor the sword

Peril nor nakedness.

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Neither death nor life nor angels

Not any principality

Could stifle the love of these mothers' boys

From here to Eternity.

I then said: "Lord, take and receive,

Take all of my liberty,

My memory and understanding,

Like The Baptist I want to be ...

For you'll increase as we decrease

In answer to our prayer

'Til it almost becomes a challenge here

To know who is standing there...

For I've entertained angels unaware

In your poor it's plain to see

Life's purpose is found as we get confused

'Tween them and you and me.

No the heart of man has not conceived

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No eye could ever see

The things the Father has prepared

For The Baptist, you and me !

Narrator: What pains in life, dear Jesus,

Caused your greatest agony ?

What of the blood, the sweat, the tears

That blessed Gethsemane ?

Jesus: He heaved a sigh: "I'll tell you now,

The worst of pains, my brother,

Came from the swords that pierced the Heart

Of my dearest, sweetest Mother."

"The first sword ? In the temple,

Among the doctors of the law,

What a joy-filled, happy moment,

When my mother's face I saw !

Mary: Have you ever lost a child ?

Known the tears, the fear, the dread ?

Have you ever feared your little one

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To be given up for dead ?

Jesus: Well, her look that day was haunting,

'T was a look of total loss.

I was to see it yet again

As I hung there on the Cross.

Narrator: What of the Chief Priests and the Elders

Or the Scribes and Pharisees ?

Of the ridicule you suffered there

As they tortured, spat and teased ?

Jesus: Jesus sighed again and said: "You know,

On my mother, that was tough;

It was watching her in agony

That, for me, was really rough."

As for Caiaphas and Annas,

The men with clubs and swords,

Those who called out: 'Play the Prophet !'

Or who mocked me with their words ...

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I'd grown use to that in childhood,

Never really did fit in,

Not with neighbors, not with townsfolk

Not even with my kin.

You as parents are familiar

With these feelings from such pain

When your children don't fit in

With the others who are playin'

On the playground, in the school yard,

Out about the neighborhood.

How my mom and step-dad suffered

Cause they knew I never would.

Narrator: Jesus, what of the Sanhedrin

And the lying witnesses ?

Or the soldiers there who stripped you

Spat or hit you with their fists ?

When the crowd called out: "Barabbas !"

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Scourged and crowned you with the thorns ?

What terror gripped your heart there ?

Were you 'specially then forlorn ?

Jesus: No, not the passers-by that jeered me

Or who gave me wine with gall

Nor the ones who drove the nails

Pierced my side, cast lots and all

Not even when they lifted me

Did it torture me the most;

It was that one last look in momma's eyes

That gave Daddy up my ghost.

Aside from the pain this caused my mom,

What still truly hurts the most

Are things that are done by the ones that I love

In whom dwell the Holy Ghost.

With sacraments of initiation received

Along with such loving formation

For the life of Me, brother, I don't understand why

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They abandon the Way of salvation.

The Sanhedrin, the High Priests and Elders

Who hit me and spat in my face

Did not cause my Heart near the confusion

As those who abandoned the place

For after saying they'd never disown me

The moment the Shepherd was struck

The sheep of my flock were soon scattered

'Cause their Master was down on His Luck.

You, too, have seen transfigurations;

You know you have had your good days

But still like my beloved apostles

Don't you go your own separate ways ?

Like Zebedee's sons on the road there

Does your selfishness cause any fights ?

In your own ways you press one another

For seats on my left and my right.

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No, I tell you I'd rather be spat at and jeered

Even scourged and then nailed to a cross

By the people who never have known me

As opposed to somebody I've lost

Like you whom I've known since your childhood

Baptized as an infant and then

Have countless times known me in Eucharist

Who's always considered my friend

Can't you see what you've done

To a world dire in need

Anytime when, like Peter, you fall ?

The scandal ensues

A soul 'bout to choose

Chance misses hearing my call.

Next time you pray into my Passion

And gaze up at your Friend on the Cross,

I'm not there cause of people I've never known

It's those, maybe you ? that I've lost.

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