Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Fatigue of Seeing Things (September Ordinary)

"The Fatigue of Seeing Things"

Time to look up to whom we look down on,
stand over with those who have stood under us,
ground of our being deeper than
any appearance, any avoidance,
infectiously incognito as Jesus.

God, grieving god, weeping god,
"at love withheld, at strength misused,
at children's innocence abused;"
God, grieving god, bleeding god,
"at anger's fist, at trust betrayed,
at women battered and afraid;"
God, grieving god, crying god,
"at hungry mouths, at running sores,
at creatures dying without cause;"
God, grieving god, waiting god,
"for stones to melt, for peace to seed,
for hearts to hold each other's need."
(Shirley Erena Murray)

What other species grows so grievous,
randomizing, recidivizing, rampaging
harm at expense of Creation's intent:
Meaning to squander abundance on all,
Holy Spirit of Just Distribution,
gifts and graces, riches, resources,
Pentecost pivoting history's world wonder:
None gathering left living in needs unmet!

No matter that no office-holder or -runner
ventures revealing how fractured our world,
what deep-chasmed chaos --
countable wealthy, infinite poor,
so many Haitis, like Lazarus, washed
up on doorsteps, traversed everyday,
never seen, never known, "failed
nation states, world without winners --
our every adversity somebody's
"growth opportunity?"

We brought nothing into this world,
so that we can take nothing out of it.

Vineyards of unimpeached Promise,
Vineyarders welcoming last-comers first,
no one worth less, no one worth more,
Human Rightings, affirming actions --
full employment, livable wage, daily labor,
daily life, daily love -- passionate economics,
ecologics, ecumenics -- each leading to other --
Spirited Spiraling, out of control!

Abeyance of war one long conversation,
cosmic redundance, promising yes,
doing no; promising no, doing yes;
endless exchanging -- words, symbols, vows --
actions following fittingly from them?

Pausing, beginning again;
multiple covenants, at odds and loose ends,
ever legible, speakable, negotiable, changeable,
forgivable, even perfectible?

From reading minds to speaking hearts --
World, save the United Nations!

Wherever, whenever, two or three gather,
flowing forever, fantasy to and from Fate --

"You are contained in me. But how can we
contain you in ark or tabernacle or --
You cannot. Where, then?
In your heart. Come. Still?
I will be with thee. Who am I?
You are that I will be. Come."
(Madeleine L'Engle)

Troubled Talker, trapped in
trepadacious interpretation, God to people,
People to god; People forever searching a home,
perceiving all image as refuge:
Synagogue: "house of study, house of prayer,
house of assembly;" School: "house of books;"
Hospital: "house of sick people;" Cemetery:
"house of the buried;" All the Above: "House of Life!"
(Myra Soifer)

Biblically-wisdomed women, unconquerably
strong of spirit, free to choose, equal of any;
hardworking, undomesticated, organized,
skillfully buying land, greenly growing it,
outreaching, resourceful, entrepreneurial;
able to "laugh at the time to come," already
deep-grounded in common good, public life:
What benefits all belonging to all, increasing
sum over its parts, "gentleness born of wisdom,
steeping connection, abiding relation, unhaunted
by wondering what it was, would
have been, like to belong.

"What would people
look like if we could see them as they are,
soaked in honey, stung and swollen,
pinned against time?" (Ellen Bass)

We cannot be found without losing,
cannot come home without going away.
Where have we been? Who have we been?
Who have we been with? What have we done?
Paul's only credential: "invective, witch hunts,
arrogance" -- What more may we say of ourselves?
Does best in us even matter to Matter-Maker?
When worst in us always seems to suffice?

Jeremiah like day dead in summer,
globally warmed, hot brutal wind
scorching with hopeless exposure, on
barren heights of remotest desert,
encountering loose parts of ourselves,
forefacing with portents of dangerousness:

"Burning Man," Joan and John Baptists, putting on,
taking off, sackcloths, ashes, masks -- newly prophetic!
If catastrophe faces a people, a species, and sentinels
fail to warn those under their care . . . We live in
such a time: Global Warming. Ozone Depletion.
Overpopulation. Massive Starvation. Air and
Water Pollution. Topsoil Erosion. Deaths of
Coral Reefs and Oceans. Extermination of Species.
Continuing Threat of Nuclear Radiation from
Leaks, Dumps, Accidents . . . At a time when
every human resource should be trained on
surmounting these crises, torpor reigns.
(Walter Wink)

Where are our Jeremiahs, shitting, spitting
fire, saving matches, spilling out prayerful
guts for our wars; our sense of respect for failure,
that we can do nothing to stop them; our joy?
Grief overwhelming, hearts sickened with
cries of the poor, hopes shriveled by
misspent integrities.

Dare we incite, insight, ever darker interiors,
Mother Teresa, brightly surfaced for
charitable viewing enjoyment -- Yet,
"Who am I that You should forsake me?
The Child of your Love now become the most
hated one . . . thrown away as unwanted . . . ."
How much more water? How many more tears?
How much more lost are we able to be?

Jesus extending, perfecting prophecy, offering,
ransoming, once with his death, repeatedly with
resurrection, commending "dishonest wealth,"
surcharging self, canceling debt, building
relation, winnowing wealthy to healthier limits,
no longer gorging on greed out of
sore-gutted world: Steward of urgent shrewdness,
instant action, losing whole way of life off
those who owe him, whole way of warring,
all the wrong reasons, learning to live with
so little still left us to lose, looking, like Steward,
not upward but down, relieving, releasing
most desperate from debt.

What if Mother Teresa's darkness is a warning? . . .
What if she was just like us, saw problems,
responded, and got deeper and deeper into
the suffering of others because
there seemed to be no end to it? . . .
We suffer the fatigue of seeing
things we don't know how to
change without disturbing the world in
a way her wonderful works did not seem to do.
(National Catholic Reporter)