Peace Profound

Photo by Joe Grant © 2021

Dear Seeker,
In these extraordinary, perilous times
let us call upon
the pervasive, penetrating Presence,
of the recreative Spirit of Truth
who is peace, wholeness, healing
deeper and wider
than division, destruction, fear and fanaticism.

I offer this ancient invocation, reframed for our time.
Let this intention resound
beyond the walls of your heart
as you set this Spirit loose to breathe
over the face of our fractured, fear-filled nation.

An ancient blessing renewed,
for all who are heart-sore,
worried or wondering at this turning of turning:

Deep Peace of the running wave, and the cleansing of the waters.
Deep Peace of
the flowing air, and the clearing of the skies.
Deep Peace of the soft rain, and the shelter of friendship.
Deep Peace of shining stars, and the memory of timeless beginnings.
Deep Peace of the quiet earth, and the kinship of all creatures.
Deep Peace of the gentle night, and the warm hearth of family.
Deep Peace of the ancient stones, and the tenacity of life.
Deep Peace of the heart of Mary, and the tender touch of every mother.
Deep Peace of the Christ child, and the Holy One guised as enemy and kin.
Deep Peace of our merciful Maker, and the Spirit who makes us one.
To the terrors of the night, and the troubles of your day, Deep Peace.

Celtic Traditional (Adapted)

Excerpted from Wandering and Welcome by Joe Grant

joe

A BOOK BY JOE GRANT

Fresh Start

Photo by Joe Grant © 2021

In the dark before dawn, he awoke and went into the wilds to pray.
Simon and his companions sought him out and finding him said,
‘Everyone is looking for you.’

Mark 1:35-37

Seeker,
What are you looking for in this fresh and fragile new year?

On the cusp of a year brand-new,
we wonder what to hold and what to let go;
means and mindsets that need to die, so newness now can grow.

Names and faces in hallowed memoriam held;
losses that will never leave us, lashed to our regret;
lessons we cannot afford to ignore or too quickly forget.

Upon this weathered threshold,
we dare not wish away
a past, now part of us, that brought us to brink of day.

They are what saves the world: who choose to grow
Thin to a starting point beyond this squalor

Mary Oliver, On Winter’s Margin

For we must believe in beginnings,
resist the draw to replicate or retain
previous patterns, expectations and well-practiced distain.

In mind and mode, already things have changed,
hopefully so will we.
For a start to be new and fresh, we really must break free.

Often we embark with committed resolve,
which quickly dissipates and leaves
as we fold back into the familiar that readily deceives.

What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make and end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from.

T. S. Eliot, Little Gidding

In policy and practicality,
what must we bring to an end,
so we might at least start to make amends?

Will we listen hard to injustice at the root,
reject rampant falsehood, face our fears within
to bravely embrace a wider truth so reconciling might begin?

Will we loose spirited imagination not ours,
to revise, renew and creatively restore
the scoured face of earth, scorched, parched and sore?

Life is not hurrying
on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush …

R. S. Thomas

Though we may lack capacity
to realize what begs to be done,
still, can we decide who we each intend to become.

Reshaping community and beyond,
will require of us “good trouble”
to fins a pathway clear through all the smoke and rubble.

So in this dark before dawn
let wild soul searching start
for the Christ we must reclaim when our world is torn apart.

joe

Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
A BOOK BY JOE GRANT

Liquid Life

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020

By the tenderest mercy of our Maker,
dawn from on high will break over us,
to enlighten all who sit in death’s dark shadow,
and guide our feet back to the ways of peace.

Luke 1:78-79

Living below
the flight path
of an air-freight world hub

invites regular rumbled interruptions
that shred nerves, rattle windows, and interfere
with conversations, as well as household electronics.

In early morning, at eventide
and into dead of night,
our neighborhood is rent with whining turbines

that defy gravity as they strain
to launch or land monstrous metal birds,
miraculously uplifted by invisible airy currents.

In pairs they arrive or depart,
roaring and tearing at the cloudy blue
as speedily they rise or slowly descend.

Low-flying and laden with treasures and trinkets,
they bear necessities,
along with niceties from ports unknown.

Like those harbor docklands of old,
our city is now a sky port
with an army of shippers and handlers

who toil day and night
to manipulate mountains
of the stuff that stuffs our overfilled lives.

And in the frenzied season of buying and gifting,
this frequent freight flying
reaches fevered pace.

The light shines in the darkness,
and darkness did not overcome it.

John1:5

These cold, stark days,
I sit on my porch and skyward stare,
as wordless breath mists chill air.

I wait and I watch
blinking white underbellies, wheels down,
pass low over trees and rooves.

No longer greeted by impatient frustration
and a rumbling undercurrent
of worried resentment,

these days, this rattling roar
resounds like death-defying thunder,
announcing from the heavens that hope is on the wing.

For cargo planes, now turned angelic,
are also pregnant with the possibility
of new liquid life.

In defiance of the typical detritus
of seasonal sentimentality,
these magnificent machines bear life-saving serum in their bellies.

So hope for a great sea change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that a further shore
Is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles
And cures and healing wells.

Seamus Heaney

Each mechanical messenger
I greet like Gabriel or Hermes,
with a hopeful nod and the glimmer of a smile.

I call to mind our fearful, fragmented,
beleaguered human family,
brought low by viral load.

How long-awaited, this clear liquid life,
to shatter the shadow of pandemic
that once again, we might breathe easy.

But not quite yet!
For we are still plagued by pride,
and hubris humiliates us.

Disease also defines us,
as crisis unmasks systemic inequities,
along with vanities and vulnerabilities.

Pandemic pleads for new self-understanding;
a world repatterned around care for creatures
and health care for humankind.

Plague will not leave us
until we refuse to leave
any member of our human family behind.

Historically pandemics have forced humans
to break with the past and imagine their world anew.
This one is no different.
It is a portal, a gateway between one world and the next.

Arundhati Roy

May the hope that gilds the horizon
bring enlightenment, chase away cruelty
and heal hearts that mourn the cruel cost of living.

joe

Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
A BOOK BY JOE GRANT

Being Well

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020

A house is divided against itself will not be able to stand.

Mark 3: 25

Each day, in tragic tones,
pandemic exposes a world completely intertwined;
your wellbeing inextricably tied to mine.

Healing cannot be reduced
to mere self-preservation;
saving the strong by abandoning the frail.

For plagues carry
lessons in their lesions
and wisdom within their wounds.

Though forced to isolate and shelter
behind masks and shields,
a disease of the whole human body calls for corporate care.

The miniscule might of viral particles,
like grains of sand in machinery,
arrests and infects our every movement, meeting and market.

Stealing breath from our bodies,
and loved ones from our lives,
plague unmasks inequities and exposes vulnerabilities.

Yet every blight brings unwelcomed blessings.
Pandemic, like climate change, is a natural response
that carries remedies not retribution.

Every crisis intervenes to force a pause,
redirect energy
and rectify behavior.

We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.

Albert Einstein

Intractable problems
require a totally different tack
than merely attacking symptoms.

The road to restoration
must first arrive at truth
before realizing reconciliation.

Whether we are ready or not,
disease, death and social disintegration
make no accommodation or exception for willful ignorance.

Perhaps humble truth-telling takes hold
with the admission that we cannot return
to mean old ways and wayward means.

A change of direction,
a radical reorientation
is required to achieve the remedy for our “mal-addictions.”

The greatest, most important problems of life are all in a certain sense insoluble …They can never be solved, but only outgrown.

Carl Jung

Global emergencies
present us with the hard reality
that our world house remains deeply divided.

The priceless pearl within COVID’s shell
is the gift of a common cause,
a rallying reason for a whole human response.

Such unifying consciousness lays bare
a truth buried by profiteers and personal prosperity preachers;
that all shall be well only when all the family is made well.

I do not expect the Union to be dissolved—I do not expect the house to fall—but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing, or all the other.

Abraham Lincoln, 1858

If a tree falls and blocks the trail,
we can expend our energy
hacking at the obstacle, refusing to be redirected.

Or, we can simply forge another path;
choose a new
or long-forgotten way to wellbeing.

In autumnal glory
nature leaves us lessons
about living by letting go.

“Relinquish the old
to make way for the new!”
in golden splendor she schools.

“This way of being
you dearly hold,
for wellness sake, you must let go.”

The books the Holy Spirit is writing are living.

Jean-Pierre DeCassaude

Undoubtedly this involves
a tectonic shift in mindset.
But first, hearts must be made malleable.

We transform transactions into relationships
by naming and claiming
and falling back into an economy of care.

May you tap that well
of great-fullness within
to release a reservoir of resources,

if not for ourselves,
then for the wellbeing of our children
all and every one.

joe

Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
A NEW BOOK BY JOE GRANT

Reckoning and Reconciliation

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020

The heart of this nation has grown calloused,
their ears are hard of hearing and they have shut their eyes;
so they might not look with their eyes, listen with their ears,
understand with their heart and turn— and I would heal them.

Matthew 13:15

[Beneath the menacing pulse of helicopters,
troop carrier convoys command empty downtown streets,
and armored police columns cordon crosswalks

while armed militias posture before protestors.
Now, my adopted hometown heaves
under the raw realization

that justice,
who long ago lost her blindfold,
sees only in black and white.

Under curfew, behind barred doors,
in flickering candlelight we wait, watch, worry,
as we listen to sirens and pray for peace even without justice.

Like so many families in other darkened cities, distant countries,
far-off times and places, we wonder:
How did it come to this and where do we go from here?
Louisville, Kentucky; September 24, 2020]

Seeker,
What role does your faith play when some lives and deaths
seem to matter less than others?

When curiosity and desire for conquest
carried our European ancestors to these shores
their cultural cargo included death dealing disease, weaponry,
and a divine dispensation to control natives and colonize nature.

With the cross came the crown.

Papal declarations permitted the exploitation of human communities
and consigned them to carve out gold and silver from the earth
to gild crucifixes and candlesticks in far flung cathedrals.

With the crown came chains.

Named and claimed for the distant monarchs of Christendom,
verdant wilderness was tamed and turned to cultivation.
New plantation populations were needed
to raise cotton, sugar, tobacco; and raise profits.

With chains came commercial opportunity.

As African families were abducted, shackled, shipped, sold into slavery,
more moral manipulations permitted prelates, preachers and presidents
to impose divinely ordained hierarchy and hegemony;
a travesty to cleave God’s family; making some subservient and others supreme.

With commercial exploitation came crucifixion.

Our faith story in these lands
remains insinuated in the filaments of this trifurcated root:
genocide, nature desecration and slavery.
Still, ‘Cristo Negro’ cries out breathless from the cross
and we remain shackled to a shameful legacy of privilege and supremacy.

With emancipation comes reckoning

How do faithful people account for participation in racial sin;
make amends, affect repair?

The Examen – listening, looking, learning—
predicates penance.
Confession precedes forgiveness.
Truth-telling comes before reconciliation.
Reconciliation demands restitution.
Restoration requires reparation.

But blessed are your eyes,
for they see,
and your ears, for they hear.
Truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people
longed to see what you see,
but did not see it,
and to hear what you hear,
but did not hear it.

Matthew 13:16-17

May we recover courage and shake off the shackles
of crown, commerce and cultural crucifixion,
to freely enter together the undiscovered country where we
black, brown, indigenous and immigrant people are all cherished.

When historians pick up their pens to write the story of the 21st century, let them say that it was your generation who laid down the heavy burdens of hate at last and that peace finally triumphed over violence, aggression, and war.

John Lewis

joe

Find me on Facebook and Instagram@InTheStormStill
Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
A NEW BOOK BY JOE GRANT