Soul of Christ

  • Chapter Eight (Part One)—Within Your Wounds, Hide Me by Marie Paul Curley
    From Soul of Christ The seventh petition of the Anima Christi prayer is a cry for refuge and connects deeply to the next two petitions.  All of us have moments in our lives when we need strength and encouragement to confront evil, to persevere through the challenges of discipleship, and to love selflessly.  Who better to go to than Jesus, wounded for love of us? Within your wounds… Meditating on the wounds Jesus suffered for us is a way we can take refuge in God’s love.  In moments of [...]

Earth Psalms

  • Seeking Security by Francine Rivers
    From: Earth Psalms You can go to bed without fear; you will lie down and sleep soundly. You need not be afraid of sudden disaster or the destruction that comes upon the wicked, for the Lord is your security. He will keep your foot from being caught in a trap. (Proverbs 3:24-26) A squirrel comes by every now and then. One morning he turned up his [...]

Heaven on Earth

  • God’s Royal Contract With Abraham by R. Alan Streett
    From: Heaven on Earth In Genesis 15 and 17 God reestablishes his covenant with Abram and reiterates his promises, explaining them in greater detail.  For instance, God gives the geographical dimensions of the promised land, which Abram’s offspring will inherit. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your descendants I [...]

My Brilliant Abyss

  • From a Window by Christian Wiman
    From My Bright Abyss From a Window Incurable and unbelieving in any truth but the truth of grieving, I saw a tree inside a tree rise kaleidoscopically as if the leaves had livelier ghosts. I pressed my face as close to the pane as I could get to watch that fitful, fluent spirit that seemed a single being undefined or countless beings of one mind [...]

All Things New

  • What Does Restoration Look Like? by John Eldredge
    From All Things New Jesus Christ is the forerunner for the Great Renewal, “the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead,” (Colossians 1:18).  He died, as everyone has and will.  But on the third day he was raised to life, leaving his grave clothes folded neatly in the tomb.  (A very touching detail, I might add, as if to say, “And that’s that,” like a [...]

The Earth

  • The Nature Of Dirt by Julia Marks
    It’s funny how the length of time that I have been studying God (62 years) has shaped my mind.  Like water shapes the stone as it runs through the canyon.  A new way, I guess you could say. So as I type up these writings about dirt and soil, on cleanliness, on health, my mind drifts into its own paths of knowledge. And, for me, the concept of dirt really belongs inside our bodies, so to [...]

Holy Spirit

The Rosary

Psalms

  • Psalm 135 by W. Robert Godfrey
    From Learning to Love the Psalms Psalm 135 is the first in a group of three psalms that primarily focus on the enemies of God’s people.  Still, Psalm 135 is an appropriate psalm to follow the songs of ascents.  The pilgrim journey to Jerusalem culminated in the call of Psalm 134:2: “Lift up your hands to the holy [...]

Grounded

  • Holy Dirt by Diana Butler Bass
    From Grounded  On a cool and unusually cloudy day in New Mexico, I drove out of Albuquerque some seventy miles north to the tiny town of Chimayo, known primarily for two things: chilies and a church.  Although this may seem an odd combination, it really is not.  The chilies and the church both depend on the area’s unusually fertile soil, a gift of the sands and springs of the Sangre de [...]

Nature writing

  • August—The Green Pasture by Aldo Leopold
    From A Sand County Almanac Some paintings become famous because, being durable, they are viewed by successive generations, in each of which are likely to be found a few appreciative eyes. I know a painting so evanescent that it is seldom viewed at all, except by some wandering deer.  It is a river who wields the brush, and it is the same river who, before I can bring my friends to view his work, erases it forever from human view.  After that it exists only in my mind’s eye. Like other [...]

Contemporary Christian poets

  • The Chimes Of Neverwhere by Les Murray

    POETRY: The Chimes Of Neverwhere by Les Murray

    How many times did the Church prevent war? Who knows? Those wars did not occur. How many numbers don’t count before ten? Treasures of the Devil in Neverwhere. The neither state of Neverwhere is hard to place as near or far since all things that didn’t take place are there and things that have lost the place they took: Herr Hitler’s buildings, King James’s cigar, the happiness of Armenia, the Abelard children, the Manchu’s return are there with the Pictish Grammar Book. The girl who [...]
  • Imagist At Coney Island by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: Imagist At Coney Island by Maura Eichner

    One decade into the 20th century, Pound, with his back to Brooklyn, pointed his beard to the Atlantic. Simply to receive the kingdom, Ezra linked arms with John Butler Yeats. Their shoes filled with sand. Pleasure rode the water, solid as Staten Island Ferry. At dusk, lights rose like a fever chart. Coney Island “marvelous against the night.” In the amusement park Yeats rode an elephant on the merry-go-round, “smiling Elijah in the beatific vision.” Pound leaned against a railing [...]
  • Apple Fools by David Craig

    POETRY: Apple Fools by David Craig

    Apple fools we are Ripe as cups of cider and the horse’s clodded wake let the wet mornings come ring out green beans beneath the leaves pumpkin piping on the vine Speckled corn aloft Indian feathered high on the door Squash squats on the rafters pot belly bent legged Buddha stove boots and coveralls Give us this grace and all this day the crowded table the pinions’ [...]
  • Fire And St. Francis by Andrew Hudgins

    POETRY: Fire And St. Francis by Andrew Hudgins

    1. As he sat eating by the fire one night a spark was lifted on a wisp of air and set on the folds of cloth that wrapped his groin. But when he felt the heat so near his flesh he wouldn’t raise his hands against the fire or let his worried friends extinguish it. You mustn’t harm the flames or spoil their play, he said to them. Don’t these bright creatures have as much a right as I to be happy? For seconds his disciples stared as the flames climbed up the cloth and nearer to his skin. And [...]
  • From A Woman's Life by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: From A Woman’s Life by Maura Eichner

    What Mary knew was just enough for the usual day; pull water, flint fire, bake bread, smile, pray the dark orations, sleep, wake wait. When pain hones a nerve, when birth or dying clotted an hour, she leaned to the curve of living, resilient to fear, laughter, suffering. Partings are a little death. Each one’s journey is a thing wholly without precedent. She looked at the sky for compass. None. She, too, created a road to travel [...]
  • Teresa by Richard Wilbur

    POETRY: Teresa by Richard Wilbur

    After the sun’s eclipse, The brighter angel and the spear which drew A bridal outcry from her open lips, She could not prove it true, Nor think at first of any means to test By what she had been wedded or possessed. Not all cries were the same; there was an island in mythology Called by the very vowels of her name Where vagrants of the sea, Changed by a wand, were made to squeal and cry As heavy captives in a witch’s sty. The proof came soon and plain: Visions were true which [...]
  • Francis Meets A Leper by David Citino

    POETRY: Francis Meets A Leper by David Citino

    He heard the bell toll, erratic in a palsied hand, and smelled the goatish scent before he saw the figure moving in mist on the road to Assisi, a traveler gloved and shod, as was the law, to hide the sores, a man’s inhumanity, missing fingers and toes, and tried to unmask the face, slack muscles showing nothing but astonishment, lower lids keeping eyes open always to our providential decay, flesh soft and thick as rotten wood. Francis saw in bleary eyes, near to him as his mother’s [...]
  • A Wonder Of Origins by Daniel Berrigan

    POETRY: A Wonder Of Origins by Daniel Berrigan

    flower points to a bird, bird cries like a closed eye I see your dreams. Things like my heart I never see, but see hearts bird-shaped, flower-shaped, the radiant weightless shadow my heart casts—upward, to ground; a rose, a wintering bird. They meet, they summer plummet and signet, in Hero’s [...]
  • The Misery Cord by Les Murray

    POETRY: The Misery Cord by Les Murray

    In Memory of F. S. Murray  Misericord. The Misery Cord. It was lettered on a wall. I know that cord, how it’s tough to break however hard you haul. My cousin sharefarmed, and so got half: half dignity, half hope, half income, for his full work. To get a place of his own took his whole lifetime. Some pluck the misery chord from habit or for luck, however they feel, some to deceive, and some for the tune— but sometimes it’s real. Milking bails, flannel shirts, fried breakfasts, these were [...]
  • October by David Brendan Hopes

    POETRY: October by David Brendan Hopes

    It’s nuthatch on the box elder outside the window. He’s making his clown’s voice, nnink, nning, nnink, pecking to grubs, seeds, scraps. The first snow powdered down last night while he slept, and as birds have dreams there’s snow in his song now. Nighthawk heard it. He is gone. Warbler heard it. She is gone. Thrasher went. Finch went. You could hear them at night, little bells so far off you thought they were the stars ringing. I sat on an empty hill and said goodbye. [...]
  • Whole Wheat, Decaf Black, A Morbid Curiosity by David Citino

    POETRY: Whole Wheat, Decaf Black, A Morbid Curiosity by David Citino

    We study the paper, fingers darkening with the stinking ink of the daily news, as Dad bangs Mommy’s head against the bedroom wall, the thud like coming thunder, as baby’s shaken until the crying stops, as the sniper’s scope X’s-out another enemy of the tribe, all for ethnic cleaning, as, at the mall, boys dressed in street colors change forever the face of other boys with semi-automatic rage, as women of the village bind the girl, legs spread wide, the oyster cut from [...]
  • Letter From Santa Cruz by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: Letter From Santa Cruz by Maura Eichner

    I do not know the date. Calendars have no meaning here. One hundred miles north (or maybe more) from Santa Cruz our families live or try to live (and fail) farming rice. Five years ago only monkeys talked and swung in jungle trees. There is a road, but not when there is rain. It had been raining long when Marta died. Months ago, a doctor passing through told Marta that she ought to get to Santa Cruz. Some time, some time, Marta said, she would. She was busy at the well when the growth was big [...]
  • Litany by David Craig

    POETRY: Litany by David Craig

    Mother of Sorrow, Mother of stars and night fires, arroyos, tossed tequila bottles, the dead drunk. Mother of the streets, of the violent, weekend golfers, cut off, and a windshield smashed with bare fists; the knife, the absurdity, the day in court. Mother of amphetamines, the aging speed freak, who looks to kick around an oval track in a beat up stock car. Mother of the subways, the swaying lost. Mother of day laborers, children, early mornings, in the fields. Mother of Guatemala, of empty [...]
  • Ascension by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Ascension by Kathleen Norris

    Why do you stand looking up at the skies? (Acts 1:11) It wasn’t just wind, chasing thin gunmetal clouds across the loud sky; it wasn’t the feeling that one might ascend on that excited air, rising like a trumpet note. And it wasn’t just my sister’s water breaking, her crying out, the downward draw of blood and bone…. It was all of that, the mud and new grass pushing up through melting snow, the lilac in bud by my front door, bent low by last week’s ice storm. Now the new mother, [...]
  • Our Christmas Tree by Wendell Berry

    POETRY: Our Christmas Tree by Wendell Berry

    Our Christmas tree is not electrified, is not covered with little lights calling attention to themselves (we have had enough of little lights calling attention to themselves). Our tree is a cedar cut here, one of the fragrances of our place, hung with painted cones and paper stars folded long ago to praise our tree, Christ come into the [...]
  • POETRY: Immersion by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Immersion by Denise Levertov

    There is anger abroad in the world, a numb thunder, because of God’s silence. But how naïve, to keep wanting words we could speak ourselves, English, Urdu, Tagalog, the French of Tours, the French of Haiti… Yes, that was one way omnipotence chose to address us—Hebrew, Aramaic, or whatever the patriarchs chose in their turn to call what they heard. Moses demanded the word, spoken and written. But perfect freedom assured other ways of speech. God is surely patiently trying to immerse us in [...]
  • Excerpts From The Angel Handbook by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Excerpts From The Angel Handbook by Kathleen Norris

    Be careful how you unfold your wings— there are some in the world who are not content unless their teeth are full of feathers You may find employment with the Sanitation Department or at any laundry When you ride subways wear ornate silver shoes and always stand near the door When you cross at intersections look both ways, then up It will often be expedient to altogether remove your wings from your back, where people will first think to look for them, and carry them around inside you— at [...]
  • Canaan by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: Canaan by Geoffrey Hill

    I They march at God’s pleasure through Flanders with machine-pistols, chorales, cannon of obese bronze, with groaning pushcarts, to topple Baal. At crossroads they hoist corpses and soiled banners of the Lamb. The sun takes assize. Aloof the blades of oblation rise, fall, as though they were not obstructed by blades of bone. II Fourier’s children their steeds, kazoos, the splashed fetlocks— deliquescent manna that most resembles a sudden urban sleet— shedding innocent blood [...]
  • The Bibliographers by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: The Bibliographers by Geoffrey Hill

    Lucifer blazing in superb effigies Among the world’s ambitious tragedies, Heaven-sent gift to the dark ages, Now, in the finest-possible light, We approach you; can estimate Your not unnatural height. Though the discrete progeny, Out of their swim, go deflated and dry, We know the feel of you, archaic beauty, Between the tombs, where the tombs still extrude, Overshadowing the sun-struck world: (The shadow-god envisaged in no [...]
  • Luke 14, a Commentary by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Luke 14, A Commentary by Kathleen Norris

    So he told a parable to those who were invited, when he noted how they chose the best places, saying to them: “When you are invited by anyone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in the best place, lest one more honorable than you be invited by him; and he who invited you and him come and say to you, ‘Give place to this man,’ and then you begin with shame to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down in the lowest place, so that when he who invited you comes he may [...]
  • A Prayer To Eve by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: A Prayer To Eve by Kathleen Norris

    Mother of fictions and of irony, help us to laugh. Mother of science and the critical method, keep up humble. Muse of listeners, hope of interpreters, inspire us to act. Bless our metaphors, that we might eat them. Help us to know, Eve, the one thing we must do. Come with us, muse of exile, mother of the [...]
  • In Memory Of Jane Fraser by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: In Memory Of Jane Fraser by Geoffrey Hill

    When snow like sheep lay in the fold And winds went begging at each door, And the far hills were blue with cold, And a cold shroud lay on the moor, She kept the siege. And every day We watched her brooking over death Like a strong bird above its prey. The room filled with the kettle’s breath. Damp curtains glued against the pane Sealed time away. Her body froze As if to freeze us all, and chain Creation to a stunned repose. She died before the world could stir. In March the ice unloosed [...]
  • Mrs. Adam by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Mrs. Adam by Kathleen Norris

    I have lately come to the conclusion that I am Eve, alias Mrs. Adam. You know, there is no account of her death in the Bible, and why am I not Eve? (Emily Dickinson in a letter, 12 January, 1846) Wake up, you’ll need your wits about you. This is not a dream, but a woman who loves you, speaking. She was there when you cried out; she brushed the terror away. She knew when it was time to sin. You were wise to let her handle it, and leave that place. We couldn’t speak at first for the bitter [...]
  • Genesis by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: Genesis by Geoffrey Hill

    I Against the burly air I strode Crying the miracles of God. And first I brought the sea to bear Upon the dead weight of the land; And the waves flourished at my prayer, The rivers spawned their sand. And where the streams were salt and full The tough pig-headed salmon strove, Ramming the ebb, in the tide’s pull, To reach the steady hills above. II The second day I stood and saw The osprey plunge with triggered claw, Feathering blood along the shore, To lay the living sinew bare. And the [...]
  • The End Of The World by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: The End Of The World by Scott Cairns

    The end of the world occurs with the first thaw. Waking from his first restful night in many months—a night without shivering, without cramp- ing muscles—the last man lifts his head from the straw, hears snow-melt trickling, sees morning light through the window’s ice, smells the scent of earth, lies back, and dies because he cannot bear to go through it all again. But that is a very limited view of the event. The end was more than the final exhaustion of the last man. Actually, some [...]
  • What The Figtree Said by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: What The Figtree Said by Denise Levertov

    Literal minds! Embarrassed humans! His friends were blurting for Him in secret: wouldn’t admit they were shocked. They thought Him petulant to curse me!—yet how could the Lord be unfair?—so they looked away, then and now. But I, I knew that helplessly barren though I was, my day had come. I served Christ the Poet, who spoke in images: I was at hand, a metaphor for their failure to bring forth what is within them (as figs were not within me). They who had walked in His sunlight [...]
  • On Slow Learning by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: On Slow Learning by Scott Cairns

    If you’ve ever owned a tortoise, you know how terribly difficult paper training can be for some pets. Even if you get so far as to instill in your tortoise the value of achieving the paper, there remains one obstacle— your tortoise’s intrinsic sloth. Even a well-intentioned tortoise may find himself in his journeys to be painfully far from the mark. Failing, your tortoise may shy away for weeks within his shell, utterly ashamed, or, looking up with tiny, wet eyes, might offer an [...]
  • The Beginning Of Wisdom by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: The Beginning Of Wisdom by Denise Levertov

    The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: and the knowledge of the holy is understanding. (Proverbs 9:10) You have brought me so far. • I know so much. Names, verbs, images. My mind overflows, a drawer that can’t close • Unscathed among the tortured. Ignorant parchment uninscribed, light strokes only, where a scribe tried out a pen. • I am so small, a speck of dust moving across the huge world. The world a speck of dust in the universe. • Are you holding the universe? You [...]
  • On Being by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Of Being by Denise Levertov

    I know this happiness is provisional: the looming presences— great suffering, great fear— withdraw only into peripheral vision: but ineluctable this shimmering of wind in the blue leaves: this flood of stillness widening the lake of sky: this need to dance, this need to kneel: this [...]
  • Another Song by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Another Song by Scott Cairns

    Most mornings I wake up slowly. That’s just the way I am. I wake up slow as I can, listening first to one thing, then another. The milk bottles chiming just outside the door, then the milktruck idling in the street. If I’m lucky, the girl through the wall will be singing and I’ll hear her next, singing while she dresses. Maybe she’s brushing her hair, or tying the ribbon for her stocking —that would be nice. And out in the hall, some man will probably kiss Miss Weitz [...]
  • Our Lost Angels by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Our Lost Angels by Scott Cairns

    Ages ago, clouds brought them near and rain brought them to our lips; they swam in every vase, every cupped palm. We took them into ourselves and were refreshed. For those luckier generations, angels were the sweet, quickening substance in all light, all water, every morsel of food. Until the day the sun changed some, as it had, took them skyward, but thereafter the clouds failed to restore them. In time, streams gave up every spirit, and the sea, unreplenished, finally became the void we had [...]
  • Salvator Mundi: Via Crucis by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Salvator Mundi: Via Crucis by Denise Levertov

    Maybe he looked indeed much as Rembrandt envisioned Him in those small heads that seem in fact portraits of more than a model. A dark, still young, very intelligent face, a soul-mirror gaze of deep understanding, unjudging. That face, in extremis, would have clenched its teeth in a grimace not shown in even the great crucifixions. The burden of humanness (I begin to see) exacted from Him that He taste also the humiliation of dread, cold sweat of wanting to let the whole thing go, like any [...]
  • My Amusing Despair by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: My Amusing Despair by Scott Cairns

    I confess that I am not a modern man. As a modern man I am a little flawed. Raimundo is much too happy. Many times, more times than I would care to admit to you, I have suffered from this unforgivable lack, this absence. All around me, poets tearing at their bright blouses, tearing at their own bare flesh. All night long—their tortured singing. And still I have suffered an acute lack of despair. Why is that? Is Raimundo stupid? Am I unfeeling? Doesn’t the bleak weight of the north ever [...]
  • Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell by Denise Levertov

    Down through the tomb’s inward arch He has shouldered out into Limbo to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber: the merciful dead, the prophets, the innocents just His own age and those unnumbered others waiting here unaware, in an endless void He is ending now, stooping to tug at their hands, to pull them from their sarcophagi, dazzled, almost unwilling. Didmas, neighbor in death, Golgotha dust still streaked on the dried sweat of his body no one had washed and anointed, is here, for [...]
  • The Great Black Heron by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: The Great Black Heron by Denise Levertov

    Since I stroll in the woods more often than on this frequented path, it’s usually trees I observe; but among fellow humans what I like best is to see an old woman fishing alone at the end of a jetty, hours on end, plainly content. The Russians mushroom-hunting after a rain trail after themselves a world of red sarafans, nightingales, samovars, stoves to sleep on (though without doubt those are not what they can remember). Vietnamese families fishing or simply sitting as close as they can [...]
  • The Theology Of Doubt by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: The Theology Of Doubt by Scott Cairns

    I have come to believe this fickleness of belief is unavoidable. As, for these back lot trees, the annual loss of leaves and fruit is unavoidable. I remember hearing that soft-soap about faith being given only to the faithful—mean trick, if you believe it. This afternoon, during my walk, which I have come to believe is good for me, I noticed one of those ridiculous leaves hanging midway up an otherwise naked oak. The wind did what it could to bring it down, but the slow learner continued [...]
  • Adventures In New Testament Greek—Nous by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Adventures In New Testament Greek—Nous by Scott Cairns

    You could almost think the word synonymous with mind, given our so far narrow history, and the excessive esteem in which we have been led to hold what is, in this case, our rightly designated nervous systems. Little wonder then that some presume the mind itself both part and parcel of the person, the very seat of soul and, lately, crucible for a host of chemical incentives—combinations of which can pretty much answer for most of our habits and for our affections. When even the handy lexicon [...]
  • Re-Rooting by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Re-Rooting by Denise Levertov

    We were trying to put the roots back, wild and erratic straying root-limbs, trying to fit them into the hole that was cleancut in clay, deep but not wide enough; or wide but too square—trying to get the roots back into earth before they dried out and died. Ineptly we pulled and pushed striving to encompass so many rivers of wood and fiber in one confinement without snapping the arteries of sap, the force of life springing in them that made them spring away from our hands— we knew our own [...]
  • A Recuperation Of Sin by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: A Recuperation Of Sin by Scott Cairns

    I suppose we might do away with words like sin. They are at least archaic, not to mention rude, and late generations have been pretty well-schooled against the presumption of holding anything to be absolutely so, universally applicable, especially anything like sin which is, to put it more neatly, unpleasant, not the sort of thing one brings up. Besides, so much of what ignorance may have once attributed to sin has been more justly shown to be the end result of bad information, genetic flaw, [...]
  • Wanting The Moon by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Wanting The Moon by Denise Levertov

    Not the moon. A flower on the other side of the water. The water sweeps past in flood, dragging a whole tree by the hair, a barn, a bridge. The flower sings on the far bank. Not a flower, a bird calling hidden among the darkest trees, music over the water, making a silence out of the brown folds of the river’s cloak. The moon. No, a young man walking under the trees. There are lanterns among the leaves. Tender, wise, merry, his face is awake with its own light, I see it across the water [...]

Jane Hirshfield

Attentiveness

  • Practicing Attentiveness—What Have Been The Stars In Your Journey?
    From The Attentive Life The wise men followed the star that led them to Bethlehem and to Jesus.  Writer Anne Lamott describes the “lily pads” – the people, incidents, life happenings – that point her to God.  A friend of mine speaks of the “clues” to how God is at work in our lives.  Others think of them as steppingstones. In this book I describe some of those key people, events, and stages in my own life.  My spiritual mentor suggested that I write down what the “images” of [...]

The Peaceable Kingdom

  • The Person Of The Spirit—The New Testament Evidence (Paul) by Stanley Hauerwas
    From The Peaceable Kingdom To answer that question we must turn to the New Testament to see if it will really allow such an abbreviation in our doctrine of God.  Will we be able to say what the revelation of God, to which the New Testament bears witness, requires us to say about Christ and the Spirit, if we regard the Spirit simply as a mode of activity of Jesus? At the outset we need to recognize that these are not questions that the New Testament authors were themselves concerned about, so [...]

Prayers for special graces

  • A Prayer Of Self-Knowledge by Stephen P. Morris
    From Pauca Verba Take the veil from my eyes, Lord, that I may see beyond my nose. Take the veil from my eyes, Lord, that I might see through the fog of lies. Take the veil from my eyes, Lord, that I might see your presence – so close. Take the veil from my eyes, Lord, that I might see myself rightly; others too. Take the veil from my eyes, Lord, that I might see the stranger rightly, and be [...]

A Quote From Thomas Merton

Evening. A turning point in the weather. The heavy rain clouds broke up a bit in the morning. There were patches of sun, a few short showers late in the afternoon. It is turning cold. I noticed that my woodchuck had buried himself completely, covering up the entrance to his hole, and had gone to sleep for the winter in his bed of leaves. I wish him a happy sleep! And today is very autumn-like – cold clouds flying, trees half bare, wet leaves lying around everywhere, the broad valley beautiful and lovely. The wonderful, mysterious, lonely sense of an autumn evening. It is not the autumn of Rilke’s poems, something hard, solid, yet more mysterious.

Psalm 135

135: Praise ye the Lord. Praise ye the name of the Lord; praise him, O ye servants of the Lord.

 

2 Ye that stand in the house of the Lord, in the courts of the house of our God.

 

3 Praise the Lord; for the Lord is good: sing praises unto his name; for it is pleasant.

 

4 For the Lord hath chosen Jacob unto himself, and Israel for his peculiar treasure.

 

5 For I know that the Lord is great, and that our Lord is above all gods.

 

6 Whatsoever the Lord pleased, that did he in Heaven, and in Earth, in the seas, and all deep places.

 

7 He causeth the vapors to ascend from the ends of the Earth; he maketh lightnings for the rain; he bringeth the wind out of his treasuries.

 

8 Who smote the firstborn of Egypt, both of man and beast.

 

9 Who sent tokens and wonders into the midst of thee, O Egypt, upon Pharaoh, and upon all his servants.

 

10 Who smote great nations, and slew mighty kings;

 

11 Sihon king of the Amorites, and Og king of Bashan, and all the kingdoms of Canaan:

 

12 And gave their land for an heritage, an heritage unto Israel his people.

 

13 Thy name, O Lord, endureth forever; and thy memorial, O Lord, throughout all generations.

 

14 For the Lord will judge his people, and he will repent himself concerning his servants.

 

15 The idols of the heathen are silver and gold, the work of men’s hands.

 

16 They have mouths, but they speak not; eyes have they, but they see not;

 

17 They have ears, but they hear not; neither is there any breath in their mouths.

 

18 They that make them are like unto them: so is every one that trusteth in them.

 

19 Bless the Lord, O house of Israel: bless the Lord, O house of Aaron:

 

20 Bless the Lord, O house of Levi: ye that fear the Lord, bless the Lord.

 

21 Blessed be the Lord out of Zion, which dwelleth at Jerusalem. Praise ye the Lord.