January Meditations

Good night prayer on 11th Street
A rustle of blankets startled me as I climbed the stairs to the street. A gap-toothed man asked me to pray for him and I asked his name. The two of us prayed as night fell and the traffic roared. Afterward Ronald curled up in his blankets leaving a cigarette burning on the concrete like incense.

Loss
This week there have been two deaths and a friend is getting divorced. Letting go of relationships that have been precious is painful. The holding of memories and stories are ways we say good-bye, and move into new stages of esteem. The God who is eternal overflows with esteem, stronger than death, that values us and connects us eternally.

Anger
Anger seems to be in the air. What is the pain to which anger is the reaction? We use the phrase blind rage. Can rage blind us to hurts, real and imagined, and our distorted thinking about them? Perhaps rage can also blind us to compassion and the joy that is to be found in connection. In any case we need to discover in ourselves and our communities the stillness in which these questions can be asked and answered.

Dance
Last week 160 teenagers packed into our parish hall pulsing with the energy of dance. In a poem by the same name, Michael O’Siadhail writes: “Openness. Again and again to realign./ Another face and the moves must begin/ Anew. And we unfold into our design./ I want to dance forever…”

Praise Poem to God

The Authorized Biography of Desmond Tutu has come out in which there is a chapter entitled, "Praise Poem to God." Tutu reveres a nineteenth century Xhosa prophet by the name of Ntsikana who emphasized prayer, penance, conversion from sin, submission to God's will and the centrality of resurrection. Ntsikana dressed in a leopard skin and worshiped in Xhosa song and dance creating a thoroughly African faith. Ntsikana wrote the "Great Hymn" in the form of a traditional praise poem to Ulo-Thixo Omkhulu ngosezulwini, that is, to the One, the Great God, who is in Heaven. Here is how this praise poem goes in translation:

The Great God, He is in heaven.
Thou art thou, Shield of truth.
Thou art thou, Stronghold of truth.
Thou art thou, Thicket of truth.
Thou art thou, who dwellest in the highest.
Who created life (below) and created (life) above.
The Creator who created, created heaven.
This maker of the stars, and the Pleiades.
A star flashed forth, telling us.
The maker of the blind, does He not make them on purpose?
The trumpet sounded, it has called us,
As for His hunting, He hunteth for souls.
Who draweth together flocks opposed to each other.
The Leader, he led us.
Whose great mantle, we put on.
Those hands of Thine, they are wounded.
Those feet of Thine, they are wounded.
Thy blood, why is it streaming?
Thy blood, it was shed for us.
This great price, have we called for it?
This home of Thine, have we called for it?

Martin Luther King Jr.

From Jake: "This is a poem by Maya Angelou which I came across somewhere. It's appropriate for our time but I think especially now as we approach Dr. King's birthday. "

Christian by Maya Angelou

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting, 'I'm clean livin,"
I'm whispering "I was lost,"
Now I'm found and forgiven.

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
and need CHRIST to be my guide.

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak
and need HIS strength to carry on.

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed
and need God to clean my mess.

When I say..."I'm a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible
but, God believes I'm worth it.

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain,
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon his name.

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I'm not holier than thou,
I'm just a simple sinner
who received God's grace somehow.

-Maya Angelou-