D&D

When the water runs deep

and the bottom gets rocky,

we need your presence, O God.

Hold us in your steady hand

and keep us upright

and moving toward home.

In the throes of dementia,

when memory becomes

slicker than a muddy river bank,

keep our heads above water,

or at least when we sink,

teach us how to breathe underwater.

Give us courage to face each day

with the fortitude of honesty and hope,

never letting fear generate denial.

This, and all prayers, we offer

in the name of the one

who never forgets to love us.

Amen.

© 2015 Todd Jenkins

Perspective

In the prelude to Oriah Mountain Dreamer’s Book, The Dance, she writes: “What if the question is not why am I so infrequently the person I really want to be, but why do I so infrequently want to be the person I really am?”  What if we took another look at our own perceived unexceptionality – one that claimed the goodness of God’s creation, and opened itself to the possibility of grace infusing our daily living? 

Unexceptionally

It might describe the way

a job is performed;

mundanely, without much merit,

no points for style or innovation.

Or be the unimaginative antithesis

of the superlative adverb,

spotlighting the chasm between

charisma and ordinariness.

But what if it were something altogether different;

something that lay claim to the grace of uniqueness?

If competition and comparison were dispensed with,

measurement would come from the holy within.

We wanted to flash and sparkle,

like well-orchestrated fireworks;

bursts of purple, followed

by sparkles of brilliant white.

Instead, what happened was

unceremonious fizzle, copious smoke

tearing all adjacent eyes,

pointing at nothing more than mystery.

But from the congregation

comes a quiet sense of reverent wonder;

silent adulation of holy applause:

Muchos gracias for accepting the grace

to be you without exception!

© 2015 Todd Jenkins

Snatched

To construe the resurrection as God's plan for a holy raid/rescue at some distant - but probably in our lifetime - point in the future is to miss its transformative power altogether. It is to limit God's holy purposes to a divine, exasperated do-over.

The power of resurrection is here and now, between people who love each other, as well as people who despise one another. It opens the possibility for us to accept forgiveness as God's gift every day, and to reflect grace, even and especially in the places and relationships where we have been ignored or maligned.

If all you have is a heavenly air-bag deployment to snatch you from the jaws of destruction somewhere down the road, but nothing to let grace leak from your broken places into the cracked lives of others, then you might want to dig a little deeper into the canister of faith. I don't think you've made it past the packing peanuts. 

 

Burgess Falls, Cookeville, TN

 © 2015 Todd Jenkins

Opine

Before the world-wide-web-thingy, as some of us old geezers are wont to call it, there was the world. And it was real; not "reality" real, but really real. And people had opinions, which they mostly shared with family, friends, and co-workers. And they were considerate about how they shared them because they were sharing them with people with whom they also shared these things called connections and relationships. And when they shared their ideas and opinions, even if the concepts were a little "out there", the responses they received were respectful, even if disagreeable.

Back then, it was said that opinions were like elbows; most people had a couple, and they served reasonably helpful purposes in the social realm. If people wanted to share their opinion on a wider plane, they had to find a typewriter, compose and peck-out a manuscript, put it in an envelope, mail it to a newspaper or magazine, and hope it was worthy of an assistant editor's attention, so that there was an outside chance that it might show up in print somewhere, marketed to a limited audience for a limited time.

Today, a significant portion of people residing in the developed world can pick up their phone and hack out an opinion or response, no matter how puerile or rude it may be, and put it in front of millions of strangers with a few taps of a touchscreen.

We seem to have convinced ourselves that, by virtue of the fact that we have access to nearly-unlimited news and social forums that reach millions of people we'll never meet face to face, we are suddenly experts who must use all manner of vitriol and belittling to straighten out a world gone mad (i.e. one that disagrees with our own provincial wisdom). The next time you feel a blistering post or response about to launch from your keyboard or touchscreen, why don't you go old-school for a moment? Step back and ask yourself, "Would I talk to my grandmother this way? Would I want someone else to talk to her this way?"

You get the idea. Try to think relationally, before you launch your sortie. If we don't find ways to keep ourselves in this together, we will soon find ourselves out of it, apart.

Carry on, not with histrionics, but with respect.

© 2015 Todd Jenkins

Lenten Images

Did you make taking pictures daily (or at least often) a part of your Lenten practice? Good for you! Now, what are you going to do with them?

I have an idea. Why don't you incorporate them into your spiritual practice and prayer life? Here are some ways you can do that:

If you keep a prayer journal of any kind – a place where you write down your thoughts and the feelings of your heart – you can include photos in several ways. Connecting captured visual images with your written words and prayers can add a helpful dimension to your prayers.

It doesn't matter which you start with – the images or the prayers. If you already have some prayers written down, try to connect a photo to them. Review the prayers, then review the photos. Are there any that seem connected? Is there something in one of the pictures that reminds you of a prayer's subject, or that represents hope or God's promise? Tie the two together in written form, describing the prayer concern and the image together, in parallel or in contrast.

You can also begin with the photos and use them as jumping-off places for prayer. After you settle down for prayer or meditation, with your prayer concerns fresh on your heart and mind, review your pictures and choose one. Examine it closely. What do you see "hidden in plain sight"? Perhaps something unexpected or out of the ordinary; something that reminds you of a truth or promise from God that regularly shows up in your life. Use this as a metaphor for your prayers, writing words of comfort and strength for the people and circumstances on your heart, connecting the image and the prayer via the metaphor or personifying your picture with the prayer concern.

Use the picture and its components (animate and inanimate objects in the scene) to bring out the truths that you feel in the depths of your soul – truths about God and life, love, hope, grace, and forgiveness. Whether or not you choose to share these with anyone is up to you. Either way – shared or not – I'd love to hear about your experiences with the process. You can reply on the blog, or respond privately by email: dabar96@gmail.com

© 2015 Todd Jenkins

Again

It was Easter again, for the

hundred-eighty-leventh time.

Cut flowers were hung

on the cross with care,

by old and young alike,

creating a rainbow of color

to cover the trio of deep

crimson stains long-dried.

The trumpeter trumped

to the choir's anthem,

hitting notes gorgeous enough

to raise the dead all by themselves.

As the congregation waits

with bated ears for the familiar tale,

holding their breath

for the punch line to come,

"Wait for it! Wait for it!"

the preacher stops short,

leaving us hanging at Mark 16:8;

vulnerable as the three women,

naked as the crucified,

headed to church on Easter

with nothing more than flimsy dreams;

almost citizen-arrested

and returned home

of our own volition

when the stone's shadow 
crosses the road in front of us.

No real explanation

for why we continue;

nothing more than one foot

in front of the other,

sinking into our own death march.

As the sermon unfolds,

a single wasp wafts in,

circling the flower-laden cross

like a grim reaper on the prowl.

Flitting from one petal to another,

occasionally zipping up

to the lilies on the chancel,

the winged dementor's uneasiness

grows as we are pulled

into the story, broken dream

by broken hearts,

hoped toward the empty tomb

by a love willing to stop at nothing,

cried toward resurrection

by grace that will not be denied.

Who knew that Easter’s truth

lay so close, so intertwined,

with the daily struggle

of our own ordinary lives?

Only Christ, and Christ died for us,

Christ was raised for us,

Christ prays for us.

Because you live, O Christ,

the rainbow of Your peace

will span creation,

the colors of Your love

will draw all humankind to adoration.

("Because You Live, O Christ" 
by Shirley Erena Murray, PH 105)

© 2015 Todd Jenkins

Stuffed Monkey

Early on the day of resurrection (2008’s celebration, not the original), I was on my way to church.  As I pulled out of our driveway, I was still thinking about how I could best describe the stark contrast between the Roman guards posted outside the tomb – whose job was to prevent the living from removing the body of the dead – and the angel, who sat atop the rolled-away stone to proclaim the release of the resurrected Christ. 

As I made the first turn, I saw two buzzards sitting on the side of the road.  I assumed they were preying on a dead possum, raccoon, squirrel, or someone’s pet.  As I approached, they turned, looked at me, and flew off.  When I looked to see their victim, I couldn’t believe my eyes.  They had been standing watch over a stuffed monkey. 

It took me most of the first worship service to make the connection, but I finally realized that these buzzards were a lot like the Roman guards.  They believed themselves to be guarding death (a dead body), but they soon learned that their treasure was nothing more than inanimate cloth (folded grave clothes?). 

Our task, as those who know not only the story, but have also experienced the power of the resurrected Christ in our own lives, is to be constantly moving from our position as “Guards for the Empire” to the new one that God has given us as “Proclaimers of the Empty Tomb and the Resurrected Christ.”  This does not necessarily mean that we will soon have a show-and-tell conversation with the wounded Christ, as Thomas did.  It DOES mean that we are to be alert to and celebrate all the ways that love trumps indifference, hope overcomes fear, unity celebrates diversity, and peace dissolves the need for war. 

Though you may have difficulty identifying the figure in the photo, it is the monkey the buzzards were trying to eat, on the side of the road near our house. Seeing this futile effort reminded me of the Roman guards at the tomb.  I took the picture with my cell phone, on the way home after Easter worship.  By then, of course, the buzzards, like the guards, had learned of the resurrection, and were long gone.

© 2015 Todd Jenkins