I Am a Positive Person

I am a positive person, but I'm no pollyanna.
I see the hand of God, sometimes.
Yet I trust that hand to be there:
All the time.

Yet such does not allay the facts:
Of human bondage born of greed.
CRT is right, awfully right.
So the powerful comfies hate it.

Yes, I'm a positive person.
And that means: informed.
And wary of the evil instincts,
Regnant in the heart conformed.

Your heart, of course. Ha. For sure.
But, alas and alack, mine, too.
Mine, too ... in ferocious quantity.
So I'm no pollyanna.

But stay the course, dear friends, dear friends.
Trust the hand of God even when uncertain.
Be positive, but don't be foolish about reality.
The merciful hand of God is behind the curtain.

Things I Believe, and Things I Love

Per Dr. Heather Cox Richarson, what are the things that I believe with all my heart?

There are theological things, for sure - the love of God, universal salvation, the final outworking of all things ... the reality of sin ... our common creation ... the cross as an image of sacrifice for others, and the empty tomb a vindication of such sacrifice.

There are political things, as well; all of them an outworking of my theological ideas (or is it the other way around? and likely a little of both) ... "one nation, under God," ... but not one religion, or one race ... we are one in our diversity, and diverse in our oneness. I believe in universal health care, the rights of women to choose for their own bodies, including abortion rights; the rights of LGBTQ persons, including marriage equality ... a government that works for the folks on the bottom of the heap (demand side) creates an economy strong for everyone ... because supply-side economics have never worked, except for the already rich.

And believing such things with all my heart gives birth to things that I love dearly:

Art, for example - museums ... a million different ways to capture the world - in paint, clay, marble, fabric, light, iron, plastic, plaster and wood.

Yes, for me, opera ... jazz ... heavy metal ... the blues ... and dance - from ballet to the jitterbug.

I love words - nothing pleases me more than a writer in command of the language - and so I love poetry (e.g. Carl Sandburg), novelists who can take me into another world, historians who probe the past to find the rest of the story, and give expression to the ceaseless yearnings of humanity for a share of life, and a place to call home.

I love things that make noise - thunder and lightening in a dark Oklahoma sky, high rpm engines at Road America, trains in Cajon Pass, and planes taking off from LAX.

And people ... who possess a sense of humor (and that comes in a lotta different forms) ... who can laugh at themselves easily ... and help others to laugh, too.

So, these are some of the things which I believe, and as a consequence, some of things I love.

For such things, I give my thanks, and to such ends, my devotion.

My Anchors of Faith

The LORD’s Prayer

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread;

and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors;

and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever. Amen.


The Apostles’ Creed

I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.

And in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; he descended into hell; the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy catholic* Church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting.

Amen.

From the Book of Common Prayer - “Collect for Purity,” slightly changed

Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open, all desires are known, and from whom no secrets are hid. Cleanse Thou the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit that we might more perfectly love Thee and more worthily serve Thee. Through Jesus Christ our LORD we pray. Amen

The Hail Mary

Hail Mary, full of grace, the LORD is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death. Amen.

No Politics in Religion???

Lord Jesus Christ, son of the Living God, have mercy upon me ... and upon my friends ... and those who slug it out in the trenches of faith and politics ... who know that every statement of faith is chock full of politics, for how we think about God, or try to live with and for God, is nothing but a riff on how we think about this earth, and our neighbor, and the children at the Border.

And that every political claim, made by a fool or a foe, or a friend and a fellow traveler, is a confession of faith, some kind of a "higher" purpose ... wherein gold is god, and power is truth ... or love demands a hearing. Where victory is kindness, and kindness is justice, and justice is the voice of God, noting the blood of the dead crying out from the very earth from which we are all construed.

Someone said to me in a post: let there be no politics in religion.

I thought: What a curious thing to say - and what a deeply political sentiment to express ... I think the writer was saying:

Leave me a lone in my tiny little briar patch of roses and lilies.

I have my thoughts, and that's good enough.

I have my faith, and it's all I want.

Don't trouble me with the Jerusalem way.

The way of Christ who takes upon himself the sins of the world.

The sins of the world, you say?

Well, if you're gonna talk sin, just be sure it's not political.

Keep it general, and I'll confess my sin morning, noon, and night.

I love to confess my sin.

As long as I don't have to specify in detail.

So, preacher, forget the politics.

Just preach faith.

My faith.

My little briar patch, with its roses and lilies.

Where I'm comfortable.

Even as I quietly bleed.

The Gruff and Generous Winds of Time

The gruff and generous winds of time,
Some fair, and others foul,
Make fine what was hewn.

Until that which is becomes was.
And was is forgotten.
And that which is forgotten …

Grist for the mill.

Something anew.
Formed and shaped by fresh winds.

To stand and share.
To make amends and build.
Until the winds do their work, again.

© Tom Eggebeen

Planning the Attack

Most of you know I love to cook ... and this morning, I began planning a menu for Tuesday night, 7 friends ...

I'll not divulge what foods I'm looking at, but on the planning itself - checking out recipe after recipe, YouTube, Cooks Illustrated, prepping some veggies, ok, like fresh fennel bulb ... and then this and that, and so forth.

I felt like a conductor ... but, then, I've never been a conductor, so what do I know?

But, then, maybe a field marshal ... but I've never done that either.

Oh well ...

First this, and then that ... maybe, maybe not ... add a bit? ... will that merge well? garnish with oh yeah yum yum ... and we're off and running.

I love to cook ... it's relaxing and energizing ... and while I can defer to things I know well, ever so often a challenging new recipe is good for the soul.

And when it's ready, to bring the plated food to the table, join the guests, and say bon appetite. I never take a bite myself, until I've seen my guests take their first bites - I watch carefully ... and listen, too ... a shake of the head, Mmm or yum, and "O gosh, this is really good" ... and my day is complete. Sometimes the food ain't so great - oh well ... friendship yet covers a multitude of sins.

Some things always work ... some things need some work ... but cooking for friends is one of my life's great delights. It's an art form, it's never ever finished, there's always something more to learn, an improvement to be made, an ingredient to be added, or left out ... but the smile of friends around a table, a drink or two, and laughter ... and the soul is happy and content.

A Graveyard Stroll

 A stroll through a graveyard ... 

Every marker, a testament to a million prayers,

A million prayers for healing, for mercy, for added days.

A million prayers crying out for life,

Just a little bit more, to love and to live,

To touch once more those we love, 

And know the comfort of their smile.

But every such prayer, finally, met:

A firm and resolute No! 

This far, and no further.

Time catches up with us, if you will.

Time lays down a boundary.

A boundary inviolable, finally and firm.

This far, and no further.

Time catches up with us.

Mortality muscles in and has its way.

This far, and no further.

Yet, how many prayers we've uttered.

In moments of desperation and fear.

How many such prayers have passed our mumbling lips.

Prayers answered with a firm and resolute Yes.

This far, and a little further.

A few more days.

A wee bit of love.

Laughter and peace.

This far, and a little further.

A firm and resolute Yes.

To God be the glory.

In life and in death.

In days added, and days bounded.

Time given, or time ended.

This far ... and I am with you always.

A firm and resolute assurance.