September 30: Tradespeople

Nearly all the houses in our town

are 100 years old or older and require

constant care—new slates for roofs

or new roofs, plaster and drywall repairs,

new wiring, better plumbing, flooring,

tiling, carpeting, redone kitchens and baths,

repairs and renovations of all kinds.

On any given weekday there might be

three or four tradesmen’s trucks and vans

on our block alone, toiling away,

keeping alive these homes with great

skill and care and attention to detail.

Would that we would approach all

the challenges of life and society

in this same way, as tradespeople of life.

September 29: Things Change

Things change and not always 

or even often for the better.

We cope by overlaying life

with an imagined template

of permanence, knowing all

along that no such thing exists.

Still, one must do something.

September 28: Living for Each Other Prayer

Each time our voices join in singing some hymn of love,

Each time our minds join in seeking greater understanding,

Each time our spirits join in truly living for each other,

Each time we do any or all of these things,

We start to sense what it is to know peace,

To know and experience, in community with others,

Something that sustains and heals,

Something that inspires and enlivens,

Something that lifts us up and carries us on.

Let us pause for a moment of silence

To make space for that which heals,

That which inspires and enlivens,

That which lifts us up and carries us on.

May we build, together, a nobler world than we have known today.

May our search for meaning that binds our hearts and points us on our way.

And may our pledge to greater service, love, and justice make us free.

Amen! 

September 27: Fall Settles In

Fall settles in 

and my soul starts to heal.

With each leaf that falls, 

with each chilly morning,

with each slightly melancholy 

autumn song, something loosens, 

and my entire being sighs.

The wheel turns and tension 

starts to unwind.

September 26: Living for the Future

Sometimes nothing is

as present as the past,

and little remains in mind

but what is long gone.

But living for the future

is the work of the old

because the young

have not had as much

experience imagining it.

September 25: I Give Thanks for Rain

I give thanks for rain and pray

for relief from an overheated world

driven by avarice, fear and illusion,

by demented malice and delusion,

by imagined memories of better days.

I give thanks for rain and pray.

September 24: Gazing at the Stairs

The dog sits, 

gazing at the stairs,

waiting for my wife

to come down,

as if nothing could be 

more important

than greeting her 

on this fall day as rain

descends like 

a long-awaited dream.

September 23: Rainy Day

It seems like forever 

since we’ve had a rainy day,

a day when rain falls steadily

for hours and hours,

and the dry, hot ground 

is quenched and sated

with water that falls like tears 

on the landscape.

Sunshine is nice, but today 

it’s good to have rain.

September 22: Sometimes It Helps

In the face of each congregant

human frailty is on full display—

ravages of aging and infirmity,

stresses of marriage and parenting,

anxiety about the state of the world,

challenges of being entirely human—

and each Sunday we make space

for all of it and much more,

and sometimes, mysteriously,

perhaps miraculously, it helps. 

September 21: Catching Breath Prayer

Let us pause for a moment and return to our breath,

turn our awareness toward breathing in and breathing out.

Breathing in, breathing out. Breathing in, breathing out.

And, continuing to breathe in and out, we still our minds,

we rest our overheated imaginations, filled with fears,

filled with worries, filled with concerns and apprehensions.

Let us continue breathing in, breathing out, into silence.

We sometimes speak off catching our breath,

though breathing itself is more ephemeral

than anything that can be caught or captured.

It can, however, be released, again and again.

May we breathe in peace, may we breathe out love,

over and over, again and again, now and always.

Amen.

September 20: Life Is Messy

Life is messy, as is death, and mysteries

abound, abide, and abet attendant chaos

at every point in the spiral of existence,

inspiring speculation and reams of poems

about what, if anything, might come next.

And so it is we sink amid bad theology,

looking for wisdom in all the wrong places.

Seek not the great beyond, but great within.

September 19: Drawn and Crossed

Lines keep being 

drawn and crossed

as, right by right, 

freedom disappears.

Glowing autumn light 

is beautiful, but it now 

illuminates fascism 2.0.

September 18: Light Drains

Light begins to drain away

day by day as fall descends

like a translucent curtain,

and parched ground longs

for autumn rain and winter

snow and a certain end.

September 17: John Wesley, Part 2

In spring of 1738, John Wesley, 

while  visiting his brother who was suffering

from a severe bout of pleurisy, found 

that he had lost his faith.  He asked himself,

“How can you preach to others, 

who have not faith yourself?” He spoke 

of his concern to his friend, 

Moravian missionary Peter Böhler, 

who advised him, “Preach faith till you have it; 

and then, because you have it, you will preach faith.” 

John Wesley followed this advice for the rest of his life. 

And Charles Wesley, after having recovered from his illness,

wrote an 18-stanza poem that included the words, 

“O, for a thousand tongues to sing my great redeemer’s praise!”

September 16: One Iambic Foot

I am but one iambic foot amid

The metric drone of life’s forgotten verse. 

September 15: Beautiful Day

It is a beautiful day for life

to happen, a beautiful day

for laughter, tears and coffee,

a beautiful day for trying

something new, for living

freely, for breathing deeply.

It is a beautiful day for life. 

September 14: Prayer for Unfurling Wings

Let us take a moment to pause and imagine.

Imagine the mist of fear 

which cloaks so much of the world—

Fear that leads to hatred and violence,

Fear that leads to ignorance and bigotry,

Fear that leads to indifference and inaction—

Imagine the mist of fear burning away

In the clear warm light of love.

And, as the mist of fear burns away,

Imagine your own soul unfurling its wings—

Wings that might carry you and all you love

Out of the shadow of fear and uncertainty,

Out of the dark places of pain and suffering,

Wings that might carry you and all you love

Toward the light of healing and understanding.

Let us take a moment to imagine fear burning away

And the wings of our souls unfurling, together.

May we create a space in which there is room

For all to flourish, a space in which there is room

For healing, for hope, for love, now and always,

Amen!

September 13: Ways to Wake Up, Part 1

There are twenty ways to wake up

on any given morning in the fall

when light is golden turning bronze

and sleep is like soft, warm falling

into a haze of blissful comfort—

one of which is hearing the dog

bark to be let out at 5:00 a.m. 

September 12: Early Fall

Across the street a few leaves float down

as fall seems to have arrived a bit early,

perhaps because the world is weary

and wants to rest, wants to sleep

while humans methodically go

about the work of destroying

pretty much everything.

I pray for peace again

and for the earth

and for winter.

September 11: The World Came Unhinged

The world came unhinged 24 years ago,

unmoored and more uncertain;

and mass death, rather than being lamented,

has been reenacted again and again,

leaving nothing and no one untouched.

Each time I gaze up at the sky on this date,

I can’t help but look for falling objects;

and each time I take stock of the world,

I can’t help but notice fallen souls.

September 10: I Can Now Imagine Winter

I can now imagine winter—

something I could not have done

even a week ago, when the sun

burned brighter and temperatures

were just a few degrees warmer

and the days were a tiny bit longer.

And I find myself looking forward

to flannel pajamas and fleece pullovers

and cold nights of easy sleep under thick

comforting layers of sedimentary blankets. 

September 9: Blessings Rise Up

Blessings before us and blessings

behind us, blessings beneath us

and blessings above us, blessings

within us and blessings around us!

All the earth rejoices, each stone

sings, each heart beats with joy

and thanksgiving, each soul rejoices!

Blessings bind all to all else, and,

even when curses tear down in fear,

blessings rise up in love, in love!

September 8: John Wesley, Part 1

Having been denied the opportunity

to preach in the pulpit of Epworth’s

St. Andrew’s Church, where his father

had served as rector for 39 years,

John Wesley preached instead

outside the church atop his father’s

tombstone for three days running,

proclaiming, “The kingdom of heaven 

is not meat and drink, but righteousness, 

and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost,”

demonstrating once again that the spirit

cannot be constrained or contained 

in walls of stone, but thrives in open air

among those ready to hear truth,

to live justly, and to practice love.

September 7: Thank You Prayer

Meister Eckhart reminds us: 

“If the only prayer you ever say 

in your entire life is thank you, 

it will be enough.” So, thank you.

Thank you for air we breathe, 

the water we drink, the food we eat.

Thank you for the sun and the moon,

the stars, lakes, rivers and seas.

Thank you for the beauty around us

even when we cannot see or feel it.

Thank you for our family, friends

and loved ones, for the gift of each other.

Thank you for this moment as we pause

in silence to give thanks for all of it.

May we give thanks each day for everything.

May we give thanks for the path we are on,

even when it is thorny and strewn with obstacles

May we live in such a way that others,

when they think of us, might say, “Thank you.”

Now and always, Amen!

September 6: You Need Not Wait

You need not wait 

for the weather

or the next election 

or the weekend.

You need not wait 

for the economy

to recover or stabilize 

or improve.

You need not wait 

for a full-blown plan

to emerge 

or a fully articulated vision.

You need only do 

this next thing

that you know 

deep down you need 

to do and have been waiting 

to do all your life.