The Older Brother

Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean. The servant said to him, ‘Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him. He said to his father in reply, ‘Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends. But when your son returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him you slaughter the fattened calf.’ He said to him, ‘My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’”
Luke 15:25-32

Should I devour your life as well,
as he has all these years?
Would you come running to me then
and shed these joyful tears?

I culled no fatling from your herd,
no firstling from your stall,
and thought to love was to be starved,
if I was loved at all.

Ah, yes, he has come back to life,
so you call for a feast.
Is that is?  Do I have to die
for you to run to me?

I tasted not one crumb of you
and hoped you would be proud,
while in his fire you were consumed
and wept to put it out.

Then strike the flint and set the flame:
My love is burning, too.
Half of the welcome feast I claim,
I who have stayed with you.

Half of the bread you break is mine.
If all your love is feast,
then pour me out the dregs of wine,
for I will sit and eat

Rembrandt, The Return of the Prodigal Son 1662–1669 (Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg) By Rembrandt – 5QFIEhic3owZ-A — Google Arts & Culture, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22353933

Overshadow Us

For the Feast of the Assumption:

Come, Holy Spirit: Overshadow us
and let us rest beneath your outspread wings.
Our frantic efforts only kick up dust;
our voices rise in shouts, but rarely sing.

The heat of anger and the flame of hate
have turned the meadow into desert sand.
We wither in the glare and pray for rain,
but not a cloud is seen above the land.

Oh, cast your shadow over flesh and blood;
let not the moon assail or sun strike down,
but make the gleaming sun a shelt'ring robe,
the moon a footstool and the stars a crown,

and in your shadow, let him be conceived
who shall defeat the serpent at our heel.
Stretch over us that we may yet receive
the Love of God, upon our hearts a seal,

who casts down kings (How fallen are the proud!)
and lifts the beggars to the highest seats
at tables where the feast never runs out.
Oh, may we, too, be welcome there and eat

with her who showed the way all flesh may go
within the overspreading shade of God.
O Spirit, overshadow us once more,
that Christ may dwell forever in our hearts.  Amen.

The Visitation in the Book of Hours of the Duc de Berry; the *Magnificat* in Latin By The Limbourg brothers, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=108902 ©Photo. R.M.N. / R.-G. Ojda

Touch

For the Nineteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year A), combining Elijah and the still, small voice with Peter walking on water. To the tune ST. THOMAS:

Touch my ears that I may hear you,
not in thunder's raging noise;
let the humble things reveal you
in the smallest whispered voice.
Touch my ears, O Lord, and heal me:
Let me hear you and rejoice.

Touch my eyes that I may see you,
not in tempest or in flame.
Presence in my fear reveals you,
walking toward me on the waves.
Touch my eyes, O Lord, and heal me:
Let me see the hand that saves.

Touch my heart and draw it near you,
not in grandeur or in pride.
Trust, even in doubt, reveals you,
lifts me ever to your side.
Touch my heart, O Lord, and heal me:
Let me sense how grace provides.

Touch my life that I may feel you,
not in praise that I look for.
Quiet moments will reveal you,
still my restless search for more.
Touch my life, O Lord, and heal me:
Let me know you'll calm the storm.

Henry Ossawa Tanner – The Disciples See Christ Walking on the Water, c. 1907. Oil on canvas, 51.5 x 42 in. Des Moines Art Center – The Catholic Beat, Aug. 14, 2012, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=20672406

Table Song For Exiles

As you broke bread in Nazareth
before your desert road,
O Christ incarnate, bone and breath,
I long to taste my home.
The tables where I learned to eat,
to listen and to talk,
they held the bread of finest wheat
and honey from the rock.

The tears that fill your water jars,
now let them be transformed:
Pour out the wine that cheers my heart
in memory and hope.
Give me the bread of earthly love,
the flavors I have known,
and let it be the savor of
my everlasting home.

If I forget Jerusalem—
O Lord, if I forget,
remind me of myself again
in every taste of bread,
and let it tell me of the home
where you have made a place,
where every tribe and tongue is known,
and every feast is grace.

By Sapp0512 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=113655277

Foes

O Shepherd, set your table
in sight of all my foes;
break for us all the same bread,
as each cup overflows
with pardon for the sinner
and healing for the sick.
O, let me drink forgiveness,
and heal me where I sit.

For where you go, I follow,
but I have fallen, too—
my prayers and praises hollow,
betrayed by what I do.
You pour the cup of mercy
and let me drink it dry,
but all of us are thirsting
beneath the desert sky.

Give us the bread we ache for,
let mercy's waters flow
before we reach the shadow
where each of us must go:
the pilgrim bread unleavened,
the blessed wine we take,
and every crumb is heaven,
and every sip is grace.

A Kremikovtsi Monastery fresco (15th century) depicting the Last Supper celebrated by Jesus and his disciples. The early Christians too would have celebrated this meal to commemorate Jesus’ death and subsequent resurrection. By Edal Anton Lefterov – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15129262

Transfigured

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John,
and led them up a high mountain by themselves.
And he was transfigured before them;
his face shone like the sun
and his clothes became white as light.
Matthew 17:1-9

Today and yesterday the same,
forever always Christ,
yet here you burn with such a flame
I hardly recognize.

You are the way that led me here
to Tabor's mountain height;
you are the truth, how deep I fear;
you are this burning life.

Show me the light I'd never seen
that rises in your eyes;
show me where you have always been,
divinity disguised.

And as I watch my passing days,
my ordinary nights,
teach me to see where you still blaze
and make these moments bright.

Show me your ever-glowing spark,
and let it be a light
within the shadows of my heart
until your day dawns bright.

Now as I follow in your way,
new Tabors I will find:
You show your glory day by day,
and in my eyes it shines.

12th-century icon of the Transfiguration By Unknown author – Saint Catherine’s Monastery, Sinai (Egypt) / K. Weitzmann: “Die Ikone”, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3859855

Feast

Come, O Lord, and set a table
where the weary pilgrims rest.
Pour the promise that can save us;
break the everlasting bread.

When our hands are all but empty,
turn our morsels to a meal;
multiply them with your blessing
to a feast that never fails.

Let our hearts become your dwelling
by the bread that you provide;
change our spirits into wellsprings
running to eternal life.

Not from us but from your mercy
come the riches of the feast,
for the hungry and the thirsty,
for the last and for the least.

Not to us or to our working,
to our will or to our pride,
but to you we give the glory
for the feast that you provide.

Take the little we can offer,
take the loaves and take the fish:
Feed our souls and feed our bodies
with the bounty of your gifts.

Feeding the multitude. Armenian manuscript. Daniel of Uranc gospel, 1433. By Daniel of Uranc – Michel Bakni, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=98280902

Tithe

From the piercing light of early morn
when my alarm bell rings
to the evening hush that stills the world
and second shift begins,
let my work be pleasing to you, Lord,
not just the cash it brings.

For the labors of my working days
are more than settled bills;
they're my working out how I am saved
before my works are stilled.
My work itself must sing your praise
before the coffer's filled.

My all is in the tenth I bring
carved out of field and fold,
as every note of praise I sing
contains the world I hold.
Take them, and see my everything,
and love it well, O Lord.

For you alone look at the heart
where we look at the face:
See me in what I do, O God,
where others see my wage.
And bless my work, and bless my all,
and let it bring you praise.

Frescos in Ferapontov Monstery – Lesson of the widow’s mite and Healing of two blind men, Ferapontovo, Vologda Oblast, Russia By Dionisius – http://www.dionisy.com/rus/museum/120/200/index.shtml, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=97153736

Treasure

Jesus said to his disciples:
“The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field,
which a person finds and hides again,
and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.
Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant
searching for fine pearls.
When he finds a pearl of great price,
he goes and sells all that he has and buys it.”
Matthew 13:44-46

What is it you have buried in the field?
A treasure more than all its harvests yield,
	so great that all our loss is gold
	to gain the joy we long to hold.
Oh, may we share the love you have revealed!

The wonder far outweighs the sacrifice
once we have seen the pearl of greatest price,
	for all we have to give is love,
	the treasure of our deepest cove,
transforming us to grasp the love of Christ.

So guide us to the kingdom, loving God,
that you have planted for us in the ground.
	What you have hidden in the depths
	is greater than we could possess:
Lead us to where that treasure's ever found.

And plant the kingdom deep within our soil,
that it may flourish there in rest and toil.
	Spread out its branches east and west
	as shade where every bird may nest
and share the feast of your unending joy.

The parable of the pearl. A. Mironov By Андрей Николаевич Миронов (A.N. Mironov) – Own work, Andrey Mironov See also ticket:2015070410013036http://artmiro.ru/photo/religija_zhanrovaja_kartina/pritcha_o_zhemchuzhine/4-0-845, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=90104537

The Love That Knows and Names the Stars

Riffing on some lines from Psalm 147:

The love that knows and names the stars
aflame in heaven's dome
stoops down to heal our broken hearts
and bring the exiles home.

We left behind us shattered walls
and empty, aching rooms;
love gathers us into its arms
to bear us from our tombs.

Secure and safe the house it builds
where we can dwell in peace,
and long the table love has filled,
and calls us to the feast.

And we, who lived on what we scrounged
or morsels we had begged,
sit down where bread and wine abound
and are not sent away.

For love has heard the raven's prayers
and filled the earth with food,
has known us even to our hairs,
and gives us what is good.

As if we were the very stars,
love knows and calls our names.
With its own light, love fills our hearts
and joys to see our flames.

The image is from the European Space Agency. It is listed as the LH 95 star forming region of the Large Magellanic Cloud. The image was taken using the Hubble Space Telescope. By ESA/Hubble, CC BY 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8788068