it is not ours to take,
but only learn to be
with the Perfect One.
WE ARE MOVING!
14 years ago
Somewhere there is a place
Somewhere there is a place
with a porch and a chair and a view
of grass and trees and sunlight
touching flowers bending under
the weight of dew.
Somewhere there is a place
with room for many friends
hugging and laughing and praying.
With room enough for their
enormous hearts.
Somewhere there is a place
where light does not enter
without blessing. Where breezes
tussle hair like mothers.
Where silence is not death but life.
Somewhere there is a place
where hands feel what they touch,
where feet thank the earth for
holding them up, where minds
descend from the brain to the heart.
Somewhere there is a place
where calluses act as rosary
beads, where grease and car oil
are sacramental elements,
where souls are cleansed by dish soap
Somewhere there is a place
where the table bears
the sustenance and the chairs bear
the life. Where food has the same
origin as man: the dust.
Somewhere there is place
where there is no gain,
where there is no loss,
there is only God.
Somewhere there is such a place,
May God's grace make it here.
Two Prayers
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
- Thomas Merton
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My God, hunger is all that drives me forward. These tears cannot quench this throat, so thirsty for living water. I look for you in the faces of family, friends, even strangers, but see only human faces. I strain to hear your voice, but there is no whisper that comes, only echoes ricocheting across scripture. We are lovers, estranged by space, and the dove that you send carries no note from you, but only coos and leaves me watching her, unable to follow. Hunger is all that drives me forward, I will walk until I fall, You are my end. -DMA
A Rainy Day
Shut the doors against the rain.
There it is, tapping at our doors and our windows
asking, "May I come in?"
But do not let it in.
Sit in your homes and your coffee shops
and rest in the knowledge
that there is something that wishes
to be with you.
An Excursus into the World of the Desert Fathers
Lately I have been reading works on Christian Spirituality and have had the pleasure to re-read (for the third... or is it the fourth time) Nouwen's classic: The Way of the Heart. In it, he draws heavily from the tradition of the Desert Fathers. I found that as I read I was increasingly intrigued by these short parables attributed to the Fathers. So I flipped to the back of the book to find the source from which Nouwen was pulling these wonderful sayings. Luckily our library had Benedicta Ward's The Desert Fathers: Sayings of the Early Christian Monks and I spent an hour or so reading it today. Below I provide a few of my favorites from my reading today and below them are a couple of sayings I wrote. Enjoy!
1. Of Abba Ammonas, a disciple of Anthony, it is said that in his solitude he 'advanced to the point where his goodness was so great that he took no notice of wickedness.' Thus, having become bishop, someone brought a young girl who was pregnant to him, saying, 'See what this unhappy wretch has done; give her a penance.' But he, having marked the young girl's womb with the sign of the cross, commanded that six pairs of fine linen sheets should be given her, saying, 'It is for fear that, when she comes to give birth, she may die, she or the child, and have nothing for the burial.' But her accusers resumed, 'Why did you do that? Give her a punishment.' But he said to them, 'Look, brothers, she is near to death; what am I to do?" Then he sent her away and no old man dared accuse anyone any more.
6. A brother came to Poemen, and said to him, ‘ I have sown seed in my field, and I will make a love-feast with a crop.’ He said, ‘ That’s a good idea.’ He went away with purpose, and invited more to the love-feast which he was making. When Anub heard this, he said to Poemen, Aren’t you afraid of God that you said that to the brother?’ Poemen said nothing. But two days later he sent for the brother and called him to his cell. He said to him, in the hearing of Anub, ‘What did you ask me the other day? My attention was elsewhere.’ The brother said, ‘I have sown my field, and I am going to make a love-feast with the crop.’ Poemen said to him, ‘I thought you were talking about your brother, who is a layman. What you are doing is not a monk’s work.’ The brother was sad when he heard this, and said, ‘That’s the only kind of work I know how to do: I can’t stop sowing seed in my field.’ When he had gone away, Anub began to apologize to Poemen, saying, ‘Forgive me.’ Poemen said to him, ‘Look here, I knew from the beginning that it was not a monk’s work. But I spoke to his soul’s need, and stilled his soul so that he might increase in charity; now he has gone away sadly, but he will go on with the same work.’
1. Of Abba Ammonas, a disciple of Anthony, it is said that in his solitude he 'advanced to the point where his goodness was so great that he took no notice of wickedness.' Thus, having become bishop, someone brought a young girl who was pregnant to him, saying, 'See what this unhappy wretch has done; give her a penance.' But he, having marked the young girl's womb with the sign of the cross, commanded that six pairs of fine linen sheets should be given her, saying, 'It is for fear that, when she comes to give birth, she may die, she or the child, and have nothing for the burial.' But her accusers resumed, 'Why did you do that? Give her a punishment.' But he said to them, 'Look, brothers, she is near to death; what am I to do?" Then he sent her away and no old man dared accuse anyone any more.
2. . A brother sinned and the presbyter ordered him to go out of the church. But Bessarion got up and went out with him, saying, ‘I, too, am a sinner.’
3. Joseph asked Poeman, ‘Tell me how to become a monk.’ He said, ‘If you want to find rest in this life and the next, say at every moment, “Who am I? and judge no one.’
4. A brother said to Poeman, ‘If I see my brother sin is it really right to not to tell anyone about it?’ He said, ‘When we cover our brother’s sin, God covers our sin. When we tell people about our brother’s guilt, God does the same with ours.’
5. When Nesteros the Great was walking in the desert with a brother, they saw a dragon and ran away. The brother said, ‘Were you afraid, abba?’ Nesteros answered, ‘ I wasn’t afraid, my son. But it was right to run away from the dragon, otherwise I should have had to run away from conceit.’
6. A brother came to Poemen, and said to him, ‘ I have sown seed in my field, and I will make a love-feast with a crop.’ He said, ‘ That’s a good idea.’ He went away with purpose, and invited more to the love-feast which he was making. When Anub heard this, he said to Poemen, Aren’t you afraid of God that you said that to the brother?’ Poemen said nothing. But two days later he sent for the brother and called him to his cell. He said to him, in the hearing of Anub, ‘What did you ask me the other day? My attention was elsewhere.’ The brother said, ‘I have sown my field, and I am going to make a love-feast with the crop.’ Poemen said to him, ‘I thought you were talking about your brother, who is a layman. What you are doing is not a monk’s work.’ The brother was sad when he heard this, and said, ‘That’s the only kind of work I know how to do: I can’t stop sowing seed in my field.’ When he had gone away, Anub began to apologize to Poemen, saying, ‘Forgive me.’ Poemen said to him, ‘Look here, I knew from the beginning that it was not a monk’s work. But I spoke to his soul’s need, and stilled his soul so that he might increase in charity; now he has gone away sadly, but he will go on with the same work.’
7. A brother came to Poemen and said to him, ‘Many thoughts come into my mind and put me in danger.’ He sent him out into the open air, and said, ‘Open your lungs and do not breathe.’ He replied, 'I can’t do that.’ Then he said to him, ‘Just as you can't stop air coming into your lungs, so you can’t stop thoughts coming into your mind. Your part is to resist them.’
8. Arsenius once asked an old Egyptian monk for advice about his temptations. Another monk who saw this said, ‘Arsenius, how is it that you, who are so learned in Greek and Latin, are asking that uneducated peasant about your temptations?’ He answered, ‘I have a lot of worldly knowledge of Greek and Latin: but I have not yet been able to learn the alphabet of this peasant.’
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1. Brother Dave was once offered a preaching job at a high profile church. When asked if he would take the job he answered, “No, it would cause me to be prideful.” Many who heard this were impressed, but an elder later said to him, “You should take the job, because the only reason you told us your answer was so we would think highly of you. Next time simply say: No.”
2. One day brother Dave asked an elder, “Is it ok for me to laugh with sinners?” The elder laughed in reply.
Skin
My skin is a mystery to me,
a thin shroud announcing my mortality -
a gift to sanctify and solidify
the terrible weight of death;
yet with it, too is a blessing.
As of now, you can still see
my dry eyes peering through the veil,
still smell death beneath the aroma
of spices and perfumes
still hold my hand, though cold
and stiff
but there will be a day when
you visit me
and the shroud hides nothing:
all that is left is the liturgical
remainder of a life consumed by the sacred.
And only the blessing remains.
a thin shroud announcing my mortality -
a gift to sanctify and solidify
the terrible weight of death;
yet with it, too is a blessing.
As of now, you can still see
my dry eyes peering through the veil,
still smell death beneath the aroma
of spices and perfumes
still hold my hand, though cold
and stiff
but there will be a day when
you visit me
and the shroud hides nothing:
all that is left is the liturgical
remainder of a life consumed by the sacred.
And only the blessing remains.
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