Forgive and Be Forgiven

But rather, love your enemies and do good to them,
and lend expecting nothing back;
then your reward will be great
and you will be children of the Most High,
for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.
Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
Stop judging and you will not be judged.
Stop condemning and you will not be condemned.
Forgive and you will be forgiven.
Give, and gifts will be given to you;
a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing,
will be poured into your lap.
For the measure with which you measure
will in return be measured out to you.
Luke 6:27-38

To the tune AURELIA:

Forgive and be forgiven,
and love your enemy:
The laws of earth and heaven
are this simplicity.
So everything I measure
is measured back to me,
and all that I have treasured
from my hand must go free.

O Father, can I do this
and love as you have done?
We stole an apple from you,
and you sent manna down.
You blessed us with your fullness
when we had cursed the ground.
In shame we took up tunics;
you clothed us with the Son.

Teach me to give the thirsting
the water that I crave,
t'anoint the ones who hurt me
with heaven's healing salve.
You bless as I am cursing;
my littleness you save,
so I must offer mercy,
for that is I all I have.

Sankt Matthæus Kirke, Copenhagen, Denmark. Camera location 55° 40′ 10.2″ N, 12° 32′ 52.8″ E View this and other nearby images on: OpenStreetMap Altarpiece – “Sermon on the Mount” By Henrik Olrik – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2980809

Wake the Dawn

My heart is steadfast, God;
my heart is steadfast.
Let me sing and chant praise.
Awake, lyre and harp!
I will wake the dawn.
I will praise you among the peoples, LORD;
I will chant your praise among the nations.
For your mercy is greater than the heavens;
your faithfulness, to the skies.
Psalm 108:2-5*

My heart is all unready,
but still I'll sing your praise.
My feeble hand unsteady
upon the harpstring plays.

The notes are weak and faulty,
but still they make a song,
for, God, your day is calling,
and I should wake the dawn.

I have not David's music,
Bezalel's mighty skil,
but what I have, Lord, use it
to work your loving will.

I know its insufficience;
I know my worth, O Lord,
so I must trust your presence
and trust your mercy more.

One God, yet harmonizing;
one note, and yet a chord.
Now, while the sun is rising,
your music fills the world

and though I play it badly,
it's you who are the song.
If you will sing it gladly,
then I will wake the dawn.

* I’m used to the older translation, which says, “My heart is ready,” instead of, “My heart is steadfast.”

By anonymous – Paris psalter (BnF MS Grec 139), folio 1v, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=807679

Trees Walking

When Jesus and his disciples arrived at Bethsaida,
people brought to him a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him.
He took the blind man by the hand and led him outside the village.
Putting spittle on his eyes he laid his hands on the man and asked,
“Do you see anything?”
Looking up the man replied, “I see people looking like trees and walking.”
Then he laid hands on the man’s eyes a second time and he saw clearly;
his sight was restored and he could see everything distinctly.
Then he sent him home and said, “Do not even go into the village.”
Matthew 8:22-26

I see the shadows flocking
like ravens ever near,
unceasing in their cawing
that burrows in my ear,
and death behind me stalking,
and traps to catch me here,
and people like trees walking,
a forest dark with fear.

But still the light has drawn me:
O Savior, take my hands
and place your own upon me.
Release me from these bands
that keep the day from dawning
on overshadowed lands.
Let mercy settle on me
like sparks from your bright glance.

My heart and mind now kindle
'til all the shadows flee,
their fearsome whispers dwindle,
and death abandons me.
Your sparks upon my tinder,
your flame consuming me,
my thoughts at last unhindered:
How clearly, Lord, I see!

*Christ Healing the Blind Man* By Andrey Mironov – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30520270

The Broken

I did not set out to write a poem about hearts for Valentine’s Day; I’d actually forgotten Valentine’s was today when I started this poem on Friday. I just happened to finish it today and realize it was all about hearts. So here you go: An adaptation of Psalm 51‘s “Create in me a clean heart”:

Not as I see do you see, God:
My depths are bright to you.
Look into me and see my heart;
reach out and make it new.

Not turned from dregs of dust and mud
nor chiselled from the stone,
but shape in me new flesh and blood,
each pulse from you alone.

Give back the joy I had at first,
when hearing of your name
would fill my hunger, still my thirst,
and kindle me to flame.

In mercy let me speak of you,
unworthy as I am:
The words my wounded soul renew—
oh, make me whole again!

If not, then let this be my gift:
a heart and spirit bowed.
Though I have nothing better left,
this off'ring I lay down.

And you who see into my depths,
you will not spurn them, Lord,
for you who live in broken bread
the broken will not scorn.

Medieval mount; cast lead alloy mount of probable late medieval or early post medieval date. The mount is in the shape of a heart, decorated over both faces with moulded, raised, cross-hatched lines. It has a single iron rivet in the centre. Height 16.1mm, width 15.2mm, thickness (plate) 2.1mm, thickness (inc rivet) 5.8mm, weight 2.19g Ref: compare Ref: Egan and Pritchard ‘Dress Accessories: Medieval finds from excavations in London’ (pp. 202 & 203, nos. 1095) for lead/tin figurative mounts of similar feel. By The Portable Antiquities Scheme/ The Trustees of the British Museum, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=55668595

Now Weep For Sorrow, O My Soul

“But woe to you who are rich,
                        for you have received your consolation.
            Woe to you who are filled now,
                        for you will be hungry.
            Woe to you who laugh now,
                        for you will grieve and weep.
            Woe to you when all speak well of you,
                        for their ancestors treated the false prophets in this way.”
Luke 6:20-26

Now weep for sorrow, O my soul,
and tremble, you who have been filled,
for I will lose my grasp on gold
and nothing answers to my will.

If I have laughed, I still shall weep;
if I am loved, the world will turn.
There is no promise I can keep,
no certain hope that I can earn.

Then come, O Lord, and take my hands:
Unwind my fingers from their grasp,
for someday I must empty stand
with nothing but your hand to clasp.

And all the mercies you have sent
of love and life, I do not scorn,
but let me hold them lightly yet
that from my hands shall yet be drawn.

Whatever you shall send me then,
still stand beside me to receive,
if I before the storm must bend
or stand again in its reprieve.

As naked as I was at birth,
unshielded into death I'll go,
and all I hold upon this earth
I thank you for and watch it go.

Beatitudes, Russian Orthodox Icon (detail) By unknown, originally uploaded by User:Alex Bakharev – http://www.belygorod.ru/img2/Ikona/Used/0IkonaZapovediBlazhenGIM.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4186105

Blessing (with Greg Scheer)

Based on Psalm 20, set to music by composer Greg Scheer:

May God give answer when you call,
and may God's name defend you
to shield you from what harms befall
and with great love befriend you,
then when at last the shadows fall,
with shepherd's care yet tend you,
and may you see God's hand in all,
wheree'er your road may send you.

May you take all you have and do
to be today your off'ring,
and give to God in love and truth,
in happiness and suff'ring.
May God send mercy filling you,
your heart's desires uncov'ring,
with graces pouring into you,
and peace upon you hov'ring.

May God pay heed to all your prayers,
and may we know the answer,
rejoicing with you as you share
the goodness God shall grant you.
Some trust in arms and some in pow'r,
but we shall trust in heaven,
and trust still more in every hour
the vict'ry God has given.

By Aaron Burden aaronburden – https://unsplash.com/photos/-n_ZpsjsqHMImageGallery, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=61802602 OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

All That Defiles Us Lies Within

Jesus summoned the crowd again and said to them,
“Hear me, all of you, and understand.
Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person;
but the things that come out from within are what defile.”
When he got home away from the crowd
his disciples questioned him about the parable.
He said to them,
“Are even you likewise without understanding?
Do you not realize that everything
that goes into a person from outside cannot defile,
since it enters not the heart but the stomach
and passes out into the latrine?”
(Thus he declared all foods clean.)
“But what comes out of the man, that is what defiles him.
From within the man, from his heart,
come evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder,
adultery, greed, malice, deceit,
licentiousness, envy, blasphemy, arrogance, folly.
All these evils come from within and they defile.”
Mark 7:14-23

To the tune ERHALT UNS, HERR (“The Glory of These Forty Days”):

All that defiles us lies within:
the hidden hardness of our hearts.
But if you dwell beneath our skin,
we can be purified, O God.

Come wash the inside of the cup;
let nothing poison what pours forth,
that when we lift your praises up
no shame may taint your name on earth.

You cleansed the ancient temple, Lord,
when it became a den of thieves.
Your Father's house now cleanse once more,
that we may see you and believe.

You called disciples to yourself
and taught them more than prophets knew:
That wisdom is your perfect wealth—
drive out from us all gold's allure.

Give us instead a longing for
yourself alive within our hearts
that we may seek your presence more
and from your mercy never part.

O Christ Incarnate on the earth,
take up your throne within our flesh.
Your coming is our second birth:
Reign in us, then, until our death.

*Jesus at the house of the Pharisean*, by Jacopo Tintoretto, Escorial – Scan using old “Original & Fälschung”-Pictures from HörZu, 1986, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5277212 Christus im Hause des Pharisäers, Gemälde von Jacopo Tintoretto (1518-1594), Escorial

The Bruised

Here is my servant whom I uphold,
my chosen one with whom I am pleased.
Upon him I have put my spirit;
he shall bring forth justice to the nations.
He will not cry out, nor shout,
nor make his voice heard in the street.
A bruised reed he will not break,
and a dimly burning wick he will not quench.
He will faithfully bring forth justice.
He will not grow dim or be bruised
until he establishes justice on the earth;
the coastlands will wait for his teaching.
Isaiah 42:1-4

The bruised shall not be broken;
the light shall not go dim
until his word is spoken.
The coastlands wait for him
who comes as but as whisper
and shows but as a spark,
yet all the world shall listen
and seek him in the dark.

To all who thirst for justice
he is the living stream,
who hunger for the judgment
he is the boundless feast.
He shall not strike in temper
nor raise an angered voice,
yet Christ, the gentle shepherd,
will call us to rejoice.

For he, the reed once broken,
our brokenness shall heal,
and he, the word once spoken,
no secret shall conceal.
Now mercy's ancient brilliance
shall fill our nights and days,
for he, the light unkindled,
will never fade away.

Isaiah, fresco painted by Michelangelo and his assistants for the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican between 1508 to 1512 By Michelangelo – Self-scanned, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2776989

Turtledoves

I have no kingdom to my name,
no crown upon my head,
nor can I offer pow'r or fame—
but I can give you bread.

I hold no sway in mighty lands;
no influence is mine.
Take just the labor of my hands
to work your will divine.

I have no wisdom in my soul
nor supernatural light;
no fortunes bend to my control,
but just a widow's mite.

I have no gold or frankincense,
if you would seek them here,
but take my life and take my death;
anoint them both with myrrh.

Come, take me as the offering
each moment pouring out,
for I have nothing else to bring
but all my heres and nows.

And though I have no fatted calfs,
I give you turtledoves.
I give you all I've ever have.
I give you all my loves.

Dove with an olive branch, Catacombs of Domitilla, Rome By Dnalor 01 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=32603350Minolta DSC

Christ Within the Temple

Largely drawn from today’s readings, which juxtapose Isaiah’s purification with the miraculous catch of fish:

Christ within the temple,
touch my halting tongue
with your burning ember:
Purify my song.
Send me then to sing it
where sad silence reigns,
your compassion bringing
while I sing your name.

Christ upon the waters,
bless my empty nets
for the work your Father
now before me sets.
When I go to cast them,
I may work all night;
you alone can fill them
with your mercy bright.

Christ before the table
where the sinners dine,
give the bread you're breaking
to a heart like mine.
With the strength you've given
in the living bread,
I will go to serve them,
all who must be fed.

Christ out in the desert,
from the crowd withdrawn,
let your silence bless me
when I seek my own.
May your spirit soothe me
when I take my rest,
heart and mind renewing
with your holy peace.