Sabbath Poem (Carey Wallace)
March 9, 2007
Canyon Clouds, originally uploaded by bowiesnodgrass.
The Sweet Desert
And sometimes, Lord
it must have been
good to go without
to leave the friends
and streets you knew
to lay your burdens down
and wander in the sweet desert
where nothing makes a sound
by Carey Wallace, 2.28.07 on Lenten Poems
* A friend sent me a link to this blog, whose author is posting a poem a day (minus Sundays) as her Lenten discipline.
* Do you know anyone else doing Lenten posts online? Please add their website below.
* Also check out, An Old Hasidic Poem this week at Faith House
Ok God, I’m listening…
March 2, 2007
Today has been a day of reflection. Looking back and exploring my life and God’s role in it, I have started to realise that all along through paths unbeknownst to me God’s been there. Not like I didn’t know that on some level within my spirit, but ultimately I can see how God called out to me. I can see how even a childhood song like “Father Abraham” has entered my head in God’s more desperate moments of calling out to me, when I have been sitting on the edge, attempting to touch the flame, and then hearing God, and turning back and finding my way back.
I have been through both good and bad times and even in all those moments when I have questioned God’s role in my life, I can see God standing there, holding my hand, carrying me, guiding me slowly… step by step back.
I was discussing my experiences abroad and experiences of pure terror with a roommate tonight. Like my experience in Montreal, when I ended up homeless from poor planning on my part and ended up having my stuff thrown out (put in the basement) and a landlord after me for money I never owed (don’t know where he got the idea I owed him anything). The police ended up on the scene (I can’t remember how) and escorted me from the place to a “safe house” (read Salvation Army). I remember feeling so devastated from that experience. I remember crying for 2 hours straight because I was scared and alone. I had no one to run to, no one to trust, no where to go, but there…
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Sabbath Poem (H.D.)
March 2, 2007
[20]
Now it appears very clear
that the Holy Ghost,
childhood’s mysterious enigma,
is the Dream;
that way of inspiration
is always open,
and open to everyone;
it acts as go-between, interpreter,
it explains symbols of the past
in to-day’s imagery,
it merges the distant future
with most distant antiquity,
states economically
in a simple dream-equation
the most profound philosophy,
discloses the alchemist’s secret
and follows the Mage
in the desert.
LINKS
Poem above from Trilogy by H.D.
Hilda Doolittle on wikipedia
“Don’t Surrender Your Loneliness So Quickly” by Hafiz (Faith House Sabbath Poem of the Week)
upcoming
February 27, 2007
WEDNESDAY : : Feb 28
apt.church. This week we’re celebrating the arrival of Lent with a homecooked meal from Bowie and a ritual led by Paul, who spent most of January in Turkey. He’ll be guiding us through themes of pilgrimage and more (ask him about getting thrown into Turkish prison). Should be a great time. Please contact us for directions.
SUNDAY : : March 4
baby.naming. For those of you who are interested, John and Elizabeth will be having a formal baby naming for Thomas Jackson at the Church of the Epiphany next Sunday, at 6 p.m. There will be food there, too, as well as a bunch of songs written by John and Isaac.
WEDNESDAY : : March 7
easter.prep. All are invited to our next planning session for Easter @ Avalon (service April 8 @ 6 p.m. – see blog posts from 2/6 and 2/18 for more info). We’ll be meeting at Holy Apostles in Chelsea (296 Ninth Avenue @ 28th Street), 2nd floor of the Mission House, 7-9 p.m. We’ll have food, will workshop a part of the service, and continue discussions about the ritual components, advertising, etc.
quitting smoking for lent
February 24, 2007
By Bowie Snodgrass
Dear God,
I’m gonna miss smoking
So much. Reaching in
The box. Pulling in air.
A last cigarette before bed
To gather my thoughts,
A break between rounds
Of work or play,
Often accompanied by company…
We smokers find each other.
And stick together,
Till someone quits.
I’m going to miss the little high
The little calm, the little heat,
The breaths of fresh air, stepping out,
To fill up my lungs with smoke.
It might sound quite gross,
And we all know it’s bad.
It stinks, it kills, it annoys,
And, by golly, shouldn’t we all
Want to live forever, if we can?
OK. I’m getting carried away.
It’s bad, I know, I know.
But, God,
I’m going to miss smoking.
So please send some other
Daily little pleasures my way.
* I wrote this in August 2005, the last time I quit smoking. Well, I’m quitting again. I started on Ash Wednesday. Now gotta get through Lent… and then the rest of my life. Pray for me.
* Many blessings for all of you and what ever you are giving up – or taking on – in your lenten journey. Please share what you are doing for Lent below…
* Also, check out the newest sabbath poem at FaithHouse, “I just laugh” by Kabir
Ash Wednesday in Twenty Minutes
February 19, 2007
As participants gather, they are handed a brown paper sandwich bag containing a votive candle, a pen,¬†a few short texts, and a piece of flash paper with the words “remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” written on it.¬† The texts include the creation of adam, the 103rd Psalm, and Carl Sagan’s stardust quote (“…We long to return. And we can‚Äôt, because the cosmos is also within us. We‚Äôre ‘made’ of star stuff….”)
The service begins with everyone sitting on the floor in a circle.¬† An initial singing of “bless the lord my soul” helps folks focus and buys time for latecomers.¬† (I might switch in a different tune – I’m not nuts about the word “soul” as a translation for nephesh, especially on ash wednesday which is so physical in focus).
After the singing, one of the leaders lights his or her candle and indicates that everyone else should do likewise.  We are told to meditate/pray during the recitation of a psalm (either 103 or 139).  The psalm is done with a sung antiphonal refrain but instead of a reader the text is sampled in both hebrew and english.
At the end of the psalm meditation, the music fades back into a low ambient pulse.¬† participants are told to write on their papers a) something they love about their bodies, b) something they don’t love about their bodies, c) something they love about being the age they are, d) something they don’t love about the aging process.¬† Then they are asked to find someone who they don’t know very well and share.
When the two are done sharing, they exchange papers, bless one another, invoke the words “remember that you are dust etc,” and burn the other’s paper.¬† When the papers start going up in smoke, the music ends.
Finally, three activities occur simultaneously:
- those who want ashes can get them.  After you get them you give them to the next person.
- those who don’t want ashes but want something can get healing dust from chimayo and still feel involved.¬† (People can, of course, get both if they like.)
- people who want neither can sit, meditate, or quietly sing (maybe the taize tune again, or something else)