Real apologies require real change by the offending party. And they don't include disclaimers. We haven’t changed the way we treat the Native People of this continent, and so we have nullified the apology. I’m sure the Standing Rock Sioux and all the other Native People were not surprised, considering how long they've known us. It’s who we are, we who apologize through the clenched teeth of war-making.
The convenient thing about religious afterlives is that no one can prove whether or not they exist, since you have to die to find out. So, in spite of the weird little cults like the one I grew up in, or the Transhumanist Church of Eternal Life (which is of course, in Florida, the universal epicenter of old, dying people and weirdness itself), eternal life is entirely subjective. Unless you’re a jellyfish.
We think dirt is something to get rid of, to wash off, and to be honest, to be a little ashamed of having on our hands. We call this place we live “Earth,” with not a trace of irony. But we forget what earth is. It’s just dirt. God’s own dirt. And we don’t work it at all.
I took the dogs out for a walk below silver clouds swirling, wind lifting the skirts of the trees. Thunder. We turned the corner. The first drop hit my the tip of my nose, my glasses suddenly more blurry than they usually are on cataract softened eyes. I walked with my tongue out, hoping to … Continue reading Chance of Rain Tonight-A Meditation for Lent, Day 21
I’m a preacher. Go ahead and laugh. It’s kind of like saying, "I’m a traveling medicine man, or a whirling dervish or a Swedish dragon-fighter." Those are jobs nobody has anymore, but it’s not because people don’t need the newest patent medicine, or don’t want to dance like a dust-devil on the desert floor, or even because all the dragons are dead. It’s just that no one believes the stories anymore.
According to the spiritual traditions, there is another source of light, an internal one. Jesus talked about the “lamp of the body,” which, when you are focused on the needs of the world and not external religious devotion or the pursuit of “treasure on earth,” shines out like a beacon of hope to a world badly in need of hope.
he cosmos was born in a great explosion, and we now seem intent on recreating that Big Bang, only in a smaller edition, and confined to this planet only so that we can demonstrate why our way of life is superior to people who live on the other side of the planet. Blowing it all up seems, in an unaware, wires-in-the-ears sort of way, to be the only solution.
I quit watering them when life went dark. It was more than I could handle in the middle of a life unraveled. I walked around the big empty house and drank too much; felt sorry for myself, went on regrettable dates with people completely unsuited to me, turned the music up loud when the pain got … Continue reading Snapdragons and Alleluias
Genesis 2:18-24Psalm 8Hebrews 2: 9-18Mark 10:2-9It was in a garden, says the storyteller, a garden at the headwaters of the four great rivers of the world. The trees were lush, the afternoon air soft with the smell of new earth. The Garden, says the storyteller, had just recently been a desert, watered only by a … Continue reading The 22nd Sunday After Pentecost Year B