Beatitude

Beatitudes, on the Fourth of July:

O, bless the poor in spirit, Lord,
with kingdoms at their feet,
and bless all who are simply poor:
Lay out for them your feast.

Bless, too, the hands that are not full,
who hunger and who thirst:
For them, let justice' waters roll
and every dam be burst.

And bless all those who mourn and weep:
Pour comforts in their hands.
And bless the humble and the meek:
Give them, at last, the land,

for we have had the rich and great,
and well we know their might,
but now the hour is getting late
and swiftly goes the light.

Give us the kingdom that we need
on earth as 'tis in heav'n.
Help us forgive—O, set us free!—
that we may be forgiv'n.

So teach us to be merciful
that we may mercy know,
to make the kingdom peaceable
and see you ever close. Amen.

Église Saint Aloyse béatitude 1 Photo By Sicarov – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=149373090

Baking

Though it's little, take and bless it,
all I offer you, O Lord,
since my hands would now be empty
had not goodness overflowed.
From the sun you made and lifted
all the world is warmed and fed,
and the grain you first had given
has become my daily bread.

I am dust, but you have seen me;
you have filled my hands with flour.
In the mixing and the kneading
I am copying your power,
for you kneaded us and made us
from the rich and fertile soil.
God, the bread that I am baking
carries your creation's joy.

It is little, almost nothing,
but what else could little give?
Yet it bears the weight of loving:
Gracious Lord, receive my gift.
By your gifts alone I've made it,
seed and sunlight, rain and earth.
Take this little; bless and break it
for the feeding of the world.

Woman baking bread (c. 2200 BC); Louvre By Rama, CC BY-SA 3.0 fr, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=69938567

Arise

She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd
and touched his cloak.
She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.”
Immediately her flow of blood dried up….
So he went in and said to them,
“Why this commotion and weeping?
The child is not dead but asleep.”
And they ridiculed him.
Then he put them all out.
He took along the child’s father and mother
and those who were with him
and entered the room where the child was.
He took the child by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum,”
which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!”
—Mark 5:21-43

O Savior, see us children
beseech you on our knees
for all our kith and kindred,
for all who mourn and weep.
You made us to be with you,
provided for our needs,
and shaped us in your image—
Lord, how your image bleeds!

Our hands are lifted toward you,
our souls cast down to death.
Let our prayers come before you
with each heart-wrung “Amen”—
not far, for you come toward us,
God-with-us without end.
Oh, may we reach out for you
and touch your muddy hem!

For you have seen our sorrow—
our tears have filled your eyes—
and we have felt your power
that fills our wounded lives.
We still will fall tomorrow:
Do not leave us to lie,
but say once more and always,
“O little one, arise!”

Ottheinrich Folio052r Mc5B By Unknown (Markusmaler or Martinus Opifex) – Ottheinrich-Bibel, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Cgm 8010, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=14729867

Shield

Based on Psalm 144:

Though I will pass like shadow,
leave nothing when I go,
you train my hands for battle,
my fingers for the bow.

When enemies surround me,
O Lord, come down to me
like fire upon the mountains,
like lightning on the sea.

Without you, I am helpless
at home or in the field,
but you have been my refuge
and you will be my shield.

Then in the press come guide me,
lest in the depths I drown.
If you will stand beside me
I fear not to go down.

The poor will have your justice,
as sure as birds have wings;
you give bread to the hungry
and victory to kings.

Give me, O God, my freedom
and give to me your light.
A new song I will sing you
who trained me for this fight.

Iron Age bronze shield, known as the Battersea Shield By BabelStone, 21 August 2010, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11607584

Loaf

A single grain of wheat alone
cannot a loaf become,
but all that grew as Christ had sown
are gathered into one.
Though each is threshed by different means,
their chaff is cast away
and, gathered first or lately gleaned,
they join the harvest day.

So wide and winding is the field
where Christ has cast the seeds,
that patiently he waits their yield
who will not pluck the weeds.
But weeds and wheat together grow
that not a grain be lost,
and which is which he only knows
who bought them at his cost.

Though we are ground down day by day
as wheat is turned to flour,
yet Christ who loves each seed and grain
is with us every hour.
He gathers us to make his bread
from every seed he sows.
If one is lost, the loaf is less:
He will not let us go.

Woman baking bread (c. 2200 BC); Louvre By Rama, CC BY-SA 3.0 fr, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=69938567

Who?

On that day, as evening drew on, Jesus said to his disciples:
“Let us cross to the other side.”
Leaving the crowd, they took Jesus with them in the boat just as he was.
And other boats were with him.
A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat,
so that it was already filling up.
Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion.
They woke him and said to him,
“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
He woke up,
rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet!  Be still!”
The wind ceased and there was great calm.
Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified?
Do you not yet have faith?”
They were filled with great awe and said to one another,
“Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?”
—Mark 4:35-41

Who is this that we follow
with no place to lay his head?
All other words seem hollow
when we think of what he's said.
We bring our little to him:
from it, all of us are filled.
And when the storm is brewing,
thenhe bids the winds be stilled.

We worry for tomorrow,
but he tells us of the birds.
We tell him of our sorrow
and he heals where we are hurt.
He fills our hands and baskets
from the crumbs we brought to eat.
We batten down the hatches,
and he calms the raging sea.

Who is he then, this Jesus,
but the Christ, the Son of God,
and still a human being
though he loves as we could not?
So we could not reach heaven,
'til he climbed into our boat
to sail with us forever
through the calm and through the storm.

Pieter Stalpaert – Christ sleeping during the storm – Private collection, Berlin, Germany, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1775811

Lilies

Learn from the way the wild flowers grow.
They do not work or spin.
But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor
was clothed like one of them.
If God so clothes the grass of the field,
which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow,
will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?
So do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’
or ‘What are we to drink?’ or ‘What are we to wear?’
All these things the pagans seek.
Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.
But seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness,
and all these things will be given you besides.
Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.
Sufficient for a day is its own evil.

—Matthew 6:24-34

Don't worry for tomorrow,
but let it go its way.
Sufficient is the sorrow
that comes in every day.

This one has got its evils
enough for you to meet.
Your sowing and your reaping
cannot delay its grief.

Then let your hands be open,
come laughter or come dread;
your reaping and your sowing
shall be your daily bread.

Consider well the lilies,
how gorgeous they appear:
Not all the threat of winter
can make them bow to fear.

Though to the year they've fallen
and faded into death,
they know the spring is coming,
and they shall rise again.

And so their blossoms open
that cannot last the day,
their hope forever sowing
beyond the leaves that fade.

François Barraud: Nature morte de fleurs aux lys, 1934 – http://www.sikart.ch/ImgRenderer.aspx?id=6004010, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10277705

Psalm 11

The proud their bows are bending
to shoot us in the dark,
but God is in his temple
and never will depart.

The wicked fix their arrows
and draw their bowstrings back,
but I will not despair, no,
though swift comes their attack.

For God sees all their violence
before they string their bows—
just as he sees the righteous—
and well their plans he knows.

They lift their swords for conquest
and strike the poor man door;
God seeks a different harvest
and bends their swords to plows.

If I fly to the mountains,
a terror-driven dove,
I'd not escape their hounding—
they can't escape God's love.

In God I take my refuge,
and they are in him, too.
In comfort or in terror,
we all will be made new.

Drawing a bow, from a 1908 archery manual By Maurice Thompson – The witchery of archery: a complete manual of archery. With many chapters of …, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8687330

Summer Thunder

When you rend the skies asunder
and the earth dissolves in fire,
will it sounds like summer thunder
when the wind is rising higher?
When we see your lightning flashing
as the clouds are turning black,
will we greet the rain with laughter
like it's mercy coming back?

As the angels weep for glory
and they gather 'round your throne
crying, Holy, holy, holy,
like cicadas' endless drone,
will you take a coal that's burning—
just a Texas summer day—
purify all that's unworthy,
set our hearts and minds ablaze?

Until then, O lord and savior,
let the mockingbird still sing;
let the chorus of cicadas
tell the summer you are king.
Though the grasses start to wither—
for they fade away like us—
we will praise you while we're still here,
'til your storm kicks up our dust.

Annual cicada. By Bruce Marlin – Own work http://www.cirrusimage.com/homoptera_cicada_T_linnei.htm, CC BY-SA 2.5, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=671173

Kingdom

Jesus said to the crowds:
“This is how it is with the kingdom of God;
it is as if a man were to scatter seed on the land
and would sleep and rise night and day
and through it all the seed would sprout and grow,
he knows not how.
Of its own accord the land yields fruit,
first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear.
And when the grain is ripe, he wields the sickle at once,
for the harvest has come.”
He said,
“To what shall we compare the kingdom of God,
or what parable can we use for it?
It is like a mustard seed that, when it is sown in the ground,
is the smallest of all the seeds on the earth.
But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plants
and puts forth large branches,
so that the birds of the sky can dwell in its shade.”
—Mark 4:26-34

The kingdom of God's a little seed;
no one thought it came to much,
but it grows beyond what we can see
into everlasting love.

It fell to the ground: We thought it lost
like the leaves of yesteryear.
It woke and it grew—how, we knew not—
first the blade and then the ear.

When we cut it down the grain was ripe,
and it fell like one who's dead,
but we lift it up with rich red wine,
and we live on broken bread.

And the beggars from the byways eat
where the kings cast off their robes,
and the tax collectors take their seats,
and we all of us come home.

The birds of the sky will take their rest
where the branches spread out broad,
in the shade where the swallow builds her nest,
in the kingdom of our God.

Identifier: wildlifeoforchar00inge (find matches) Title: Wild life of orchard and field; Year: 1902 (1900s) Authors: Ingersoll, Ernest, 1852-1946 Subjects: Animal behavior Publisher: (New York London) Harper & brothers Contributing Library: Smithsonian Libraries Digitizing Sponsor: Smithsonian Libraries View Book Page: Book Viewer About This Book: Catalog Entry By Internet Archive Book Images – https://www.flickr.com/photos/internetarchivebookimages/14761113296/Source book page: https://archive.org/stream/wildlifeoforchar00inge/wildlifeoforchar00inge#page/n188/mode/1up, No restrictions, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=43688808