A River Named Justice
thunders down canyons
pounds cliffs
crashes rock
collapses sham
shatters monuments
scatters compassion
seeps past storm doors
up dusty floor vents
splashes into bath water
cradles the buoyant
in mercy’s
harboring
stream
As I listened to the debate, it was clear that each side held deeply sincere beliefs. The speakers were from the same country and spoke the same language. But a great chasm yawned between their contrasting understandings.
I saw how a word and its meaning had taken root in the soil of each person’s life. A myriad of associations, memories, and feelings of comfort and assurance were attached to those words like a vast network of tough vines woven together. How dense and impenetrable is the garment, which clothes the assembly of still lines and curves we call letters.
“So sad,” my friend texted with her nimble fingers. “So sad,” said my other friend, as I hugged her when it was over.
When will the reality of our person-hood,
whole and holy, a trembling blossom,
carry more worth
than the brittle ideologies pacing stiffly
up and down mind’s dusty corridors?
God, make me buoyant.
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New Issue of Holy Ground !
Put Down Your Weapons
I felt diminished, hurt and defensive. His voice grew in intensity,
as he argued to prove his point.
The latest issue of Holy Ground takes a look at how we respond to those we disagree with. In a world of adversaries, enemies, and extreme views is there any way we can see each other as persons? How does our prayer enter into the deep divides and extreme polarities of our day?
READ IT: Holy Ground Vol 25, No 4 Winter 2015
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Contemplative prayer
with Fr. William Meninger
The Praying Life 