Why Poetry is Meant to be Read Aloud

         Voice is spirit. The human voice, hammered out by the human tongue, is the physical expression of the human spirit. Language is a complex pattern of symbols to which we have assigned sounds. Words are abstractions, but when fleshed out by the voice, nuanced with emotions, create meaningful sounds akin to musical compositions. The effect of one person’s voice upon another’s soul is profound, and can alter our perception of that person for good or evil. Through the power of spoken words, we interpret meaning through emotion and are able to impact someone’s imagination much like heated patterns make an impression on wax. The creative force of the imagination can make a new world that frees us from the confines of physical space and time, and transport us to realms of beauty or terror of something or someone beyond ourselves.

         Thought is abstract. We think in terms of symbols to which we assign sounds that in turn alter meaning or intention. As we think we hear the inner voice of our soul speaking to us, reflecting, questioning, assigning value, judging, and deciding our actions. This inner voice must break the sound barrier, and eventually be heard. Those who cannot speak will find other ways to communicate because the desire to be heard is as strong as the desire to live. We long to be known, and make known what lies within us, to build a bridge of understanding between us, strong enough to cross the chasm of separation, and find acceptance.

         May Love be the only language that we speak, and the only voice we hear. Don’t forget to read some poem, recite a prayer, or work of literature aloud to someone you love and wish to bless.

“Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not Love, I have become as sounding brass, and a clanging cymbal”. (ICor.13)

Wisdom Waits

I have been slowly reading the books of Wisdom and it is true, "the words of the wise are like goads".
Praying and remembering Psalm 103, will condense our thoughts into open channels for prayer and deeper meditation and God reality.
The poet Emily Dickinson wrote: "I dwell in Possibility, a fairer house then Prose." (Poem #657)

Wisdom.
Wisdom waits
and lets the story unfold.
It doesn't pounce on an event
to pronounce it curse or blessing.
It understands that there is mystery
as layers of time are removed
in the shaping of our lives.
Wisdom waits
in the Land of Possibility,
allowing seeds of faith
to germinate
and teaches us
how to discover truths
hidden under each disguise
worn by the Loving Face of God.
Wisdom waits
with us, showing
how we can live
in not knowing.

When Kingdoms Collide

                                       Lichen painting a pattern on a Santa Cruz seawall

"The brutalities of progress are called revolutions. When they are over we realize this: that the human race has been roughly handled, but that it has advanced." 
(the bishop speaking in Les Miserables by Victor Hugo)


A paradigm shift happens when "a series of peaceful interludes is punctuated by intellectually violent revolutions whereby one conceptual world is replaced by another". (Thomas Kuhn)
And of course, turmoil must follow, whether it is emotional, spiritual or political. Change is inevitable, and is the only true constant.
(Gr. para (beside)+ deigma (pattern, example, or sample)
We cannot live without a paradigm , a thought pattern, a framework of philosophy.

We have watched the tumultuous political shiftings of governments in Tunisia, Egypt, and now Libya displayed in living bloody color. More may yet unravel. And we watch with sympathetic wonder at both young and old who are emboldened to demonstrate their outrage at decades of injustice. One Libyan said that all he wanted to do was to live like a human being. The unanimous cry we hear is for Democracy, but not on our terms. Fair enough. We can only recommend and lead the fray into the chaos we call liberty, and the guarantee of human rights. They don't want our "shock and awe" kind of military intervention, thank you. They are willing to spill their own blood to gain the treasures of freedom, and raise their own flag in the battle. Those who are politically cynical have said they know the United States really doesn't give a damn about them, but has only wanted their oil. How else can we explain the years of courting these dictatorships in return for supplying our addiction?? Our familiar recompense was to supply them with weapons to strengthen their military arm. Those who are more naive have wanted us to come and rescue them. Perhaps and finally, this form of government we call a Democratic Republic is the very best that man has ever devised to offer the world.
We rest our case.

These are countries who have lived through a prohibition of progress based on an ideology that fears freedom of religion, of conscience, of women being educated, of technology, and sees only evil in these liberties, calling them the work of the "Great Satan". They are some 60 years behind the developing world, and have been denied basic human liberties, and above all, their human dignity. We can hardly appreciate their extraordinary moment in history, their rising up together, their storming the barricades. "Power to the people" is the tidal wave that is crashing now on every shore, even our own. But we can applaud their struggle to be recognized as a people by the global community of the 21st Century. Because we cannot yet predict the outcome of these conflicts, we may fear what kind of people will finally emerge. Will they turn their horns of power upon us, and rend our gut, we who introduced them to the potent wine of liberty and progress??

Christians proclaim a "gospel of the Kingdom" to a world constantly striving to gain power, one people over another, one nation against another, one kingdom over another. Our King was crucified because His Kingdom was not of this world, and wasn't even recognized or desired by His own people. He warned them that this Kingdom of God would be taken from them and given to a people who would cultivate it and bear its fruits. He chose not to use angelic armies, or human weapons to defend His authority. His earthly throne was a cross that bore witness to his true identity. From it he decreed only forgiveness and mercy.
His Kingdom of Love and Peace will one day reign over all the kingdoms of this world. We pray for his Kingdom to come, and be the final end of all human progress.
This is our hope during times of revolution and change.

Wash and Wear the New Year On

Time has moved us inches forward,
in a motion much against our will.

Try to live in a dimension that keeps moving
further away from you.

You freeze a fibrous image
Into color-coated memories,
When once you were or seemed before
All traces vanish.
Nothing holds you to the core.

The heart 's rhythm is bound
To such a delicate perch.
You dream a dance around the sun
Stepping past each season,
and the feet will follow
Just a little while.
The vial of trickling sands can trick you
to delay the once forever power of the day,
And stream it into empty hours.
Trouble soon will shake the brittle moments down
Before the overturning hand begins again.


Lolling at the ocean's edge,
By time's distorted mirror,
We are mesmerized.
Much like a trance
It fills the horizons of our eyes.

Caught within its tumbler

Of timeless turning
We float past the familiar
And rest our hopes upon a heaving skin
that covers the unknown.    

At times we wade
Through waves of yearning
Pushing toward tomorrow's meaning
And lose the gift of knowing
What is now is bathed in light
And borders all our present,
Is speaking from eternal space,
And guiding to the one true place
that has no end.

How to Spend Christmas

CHRISTMAS LOVE 

- paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 13

If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another decorator.

If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at
mealtime, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another cook.

If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing.

If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir's cantata but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.

Love stops the cooking to hug the child.

Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the spouse.

Love is kind, though harried and tired.

Love doesn't envy another's home that has coordinated Christmas china  and table linens.
Love doesn't yell at the kids to get out of the way.

Love doesn't give only to those who are able to give in return but rejoices in giving to those who can't.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails. Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, golf clubs will rust, but giving the gift of LOVE will endure.

                      -Author Unknown

A Talk with Ranger John

My Time in Yosemite

How can I describe the effects of pure beauty?

There were times, including the 50 minute drive home, that I would just stop and absorb the scenery. Most mornings on the drive to the Valley, I would stop somewhere along the road and get out for a short walk. I couldn’t help expressing my love for the mountains, the air, the wildlife, trees, and flowers.

I worked in the heart of Yosemite Valley with 16 other Campground Rangers. We oversaw the Campground Office located in Curry Village at the base of Glacier Point. In addition we took turns working in one of the campgrounds: Camp 4 (or Sunnyside), Upper, Lower and North Pines and Backpackers Camp. My work life could not have been better. Our job was to make sure the visitor’s vacation was going well and to answer 100s of questions daily. It is estimated that in a normal day we would speak to 150 +people. If you don’t like people and especially foreigners, it’s not the job for you. Working along side the Yosemite National Park Rangers taught me how important it was to show courtesy with the public, always.

Lunchtime would be one of the day’s highlights. I sat outside our campground office and could see Yosemite Falls, Half Dome, the Royal Arches and Glacier Point. A pretty nice lunchroom!! Visiting deer, brown bears, of course squirrels and crows were nearly a daily occurrence.

The stress level was about as low as could be registered. I learned well that any mistake I made, the other rangers had made as well and it was not a big deal; after all, it was only campsites we were dealing with.

There were many “I don’t believe it” moments.  When someone would come into the campground office on one of the busiest weekends of the year, and possibly 200,000 people would be in the most visited park in the world,  they would come up to the counter saying they needed a campsite and couldn’t believe we were booked solid for 5 months. Then they would get upset and tell us that they just drove 10 days to get there, and couldn’t understand why we didn’t have a campsite for them. Go figure? Our mantra at that point was: “Lack of planning of your part does not constitute an emergency on my part”.

One of the joys we experienced often would especially be with Europeans who were taught about Yosemite in their schools. They had been planning and dreaming about coming for years and now they were actually there. They always said, “It’s much better than I imagined” and would want to take a photo with us.

As a child living in Colorado my father loved the out of doors, and as a result I also fell in love with nature and the mountains. I decided in High School to become a Park Ranger. It took 42 years to see this dream come true. Out of 1000s of applicants for this position, I was chosen. As I learned later on, they don’t hire new people often.

I return next April for 6 months. It’s called seasonal work with good unemployment benefits in-between. I get to use my Spanish often, every now and then my limited Chinese, and even a couple of times, my baby Hungarian. 3 out of 4 visitors are from outside the USA from about every country on earth.

At times I felt like John Muir did and would just break out in song or praise to God for being in such beautiful surroundings.

One additional blessing was getting to know the volunteer campground host staff. They come and live in the campgrounds for 1 – 6 months at a time. I met some pretty amazing people among them and also among the vacationing campers. I met people from ALL walks of life and had lots of enjoyable conversations, and am looking forward to next season.

OPEN LETTER TO MY FRIENDS

Dear friends who can’t abide “going to church”, or have found it boring, hypocritical, too religious, or too much like a business just wanting your money....

Imagine a church without liturgy, paid professional clergy, building fund or programs.

Imagine a church that isn’t cloned from a business corporation model but is an organism that grows according to a divinely imprinted genetic code, and functions from the life flowing within its members.

Imagine a church that is not like a high-powered train going full speed ahead on the old tracks laid down generations before it, but instead is a group of pilgrims going out for a walk, on a journey together, attentive to each other and the world around them, and to the God they love and serve.

Imagine a church that gathers around the person of Jesus, and doesn’t treat Him as an honored guest, or settles for an occasional visitation, but realizes that He is present with them, is the very center of their communal life, and honors Him as the Head, the one directing their activities.

Imagine a church where no one person takes center stage, but flows into a relationship of “one-anothering”, where each member has the freedom to pray, to sing, to share a word of scripture, in an atmosphere of openness and spontaneity.

Imagine a church that is not performance-driven, where you are not bound as a passive audience, but instead fosters a transformational dynamic, because each member can only grow spiritually by functioning in the Body.

Imagine a church that is not time-driven, not serving fast food, not addicted to sound bites, but serves each member a healthy portion of truth, love, and grace.

Imagine a church that is a healthy, caring family, one that is not dysfunctional, or disconnected, not afraid of real intimacy, but able to express love and affection for each brother and sister.

Too simple, or not realistic, or not happening, you say??

It is happening now, where ever the name and person of Jesus is honored and praised. 

If you're thirsty, come and taste the new wine being poured into new wine skins.

(These are my thoughts after reading Frank Viola’s book, Re-imagining Church)

Mary Stewart Anthony