Conference lgp30::christian-perspective

    In the midst of suffering,
     There I am,
    In the midst of pain,
     I am near
    
    Out of the mouths of the unwanted,
     I shall speak,
    From the hearts of the despised,
     I shall afflict your conscience
    
    You will not find me,
     In a church full of fire or spirit,
    Nor will you find me,
     In the missionary fields
    
    I am there,
     Least expected, least understood,
    At the heart of love,
     In the minds of the weak
    
    From broken shards,
     There shall you find treasure,
    Those places you feel unworthy,
     There shall I be.

    MY NAME IS "I AM"
    
    I was regretting the past and fearing the future.
    Suddenly my Lord was speaking:
    
    "MY NAME IS I AM"
    
    He paused.  I waited.  He continued,
    
    "When you live in the past with its mistakes and regrets, it is hard.
    I am not there.
    My name is not I WAS.
    
    When you live in the future, with its problems and fears, it is hard.
    I am not there.
    My name is not I WILL BE.
    
    When you live in this moment it is not hard.  I am here
    
    "MY NAME IS I AM." 
    
    By Helen Mallicoat
    

    Revel in the power and the might
    Live within the glory and the light
    Realize the words to be fulfilled
    Live courageous, know what God has willed.
    
    
    Actually, I wrote this around the same time I was trying to learn a
    spreadsheet program, playing with columns and rows.  Coincidentally I
    set up a 4-column sheet and discovered, to my amazement, that every
    fourth word spells out the following:
    
    Revel and within the words live God.
    
    
    mysterious ways, eh?
    
    -Jody
    

    There he lay, breathing hard,
     Trying to survive,
    In a hospital ward,
     Where nobody talks to him

    They feed him daily,
     They look after his physical needs,
    But he's starved spiritually, emotionally, 
     Because they won't speak to him

    They've rejected him,
     Because he has AIDS,
    They've judged him,
     And found him guilty

    They wear gloves whenever they examine him,
     They boil the cups that he uses,
    Fear and ignorance they feed,
     And inside he is dying slowly

    Nobody asks for him,
     He is alone,
    Nobody will touch him,
     They all deny him

    He remembers a time,
     When he fooled around,
    With other gay men,
     And caught something unawares

    He heard all the propaganda,
     He'd seen the protestors on the march,
    "Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve!"
     He'd seen the hate on their faces

    Now, now he is alone,
     Dying slowly from pneumonia,
    His immune system dead,
     And nobody seems to care

    Last week,
     A priest came to see him,
    Demanded he repent of his wicked ways,
     Read him verses from the Bible

    He was told he was a terrible sinner,
     That he could expect no mercy from god,
    After the priest had gone,
     How he cried and cried

    Now, he has secretly hidden a knife,
     Better to end it all quickly,
    Than to face the rest of the fight,
     Yet, somehow he thought things ought to be better...

    That day, as he lay there,
     He was told he had a visitor,
    A man come to see him,
     A complete stranger

    This man he did not know, 
     He was puzzled,
    But the man smiled...
     And then hugged him

    He was afraid!
     "Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"
    The man kept on hugging,
     Wouldn't let go

    The man relaxed,
     Released his grasp,
    And said to him,
     "You are loved".
    
    (Crossposted from the Poetry Confererence)

    Re: .5
    
    Thanks, Pete.  This is of your own authorship, is it not?
    
    Richard

    Yep. There's more in MTBLUE::POETRY

    Yes, thank you Pete very much.  I'd love to read more as you feel
    so inspired. :-)
    
    Karen

   Eternity Within
   ===============
The Truth lives within me
  like a candle that never goes out.
It weaves itself through my being
  like a thread without end.
The Truth is apart from myself
  and yet it is within.
It is my spirit united with God's
  Spirit;
constant, steady and certain.
Living forever.

		Carolyn Hooper

    See 81.38

You say that you're afraid of peace.

You say that you're afraid because you don't
believe Them.

Maybe you're right...

Perhaps you should be a little afraid when
you make Peace.

Or perhaps

Perhaps you needn't fear

Because on the other side there are others like
you

Who are also afraid...

Of you.


 - Shoul Knaz

Jesus walk again in Galilee
   among your people
   Galilee of the Gentiles
   who have seen a great light.

There is a blight in Gaza
Of fear and hate
The father who cradles his young ones
   batters down doors
   steeleyed and armed
   hunting for stone-throwing boys
   to bludgeon

Will the Prince of peace melt
   hearts of stone
   in Jerusalem
   on all the high places?

Jesus, walk again in Palestine
   healing your people
   children of Abraham
   who have seen a great light.


	- Jane Prichard, a Canadian doctor who has
          practiced medicine in Bangladesh and Australia.
          (used with permission)

A short little musing while waiting for some healing.  Wish I could share the 
sketch that accompanies it...


		There was the roar of breaking waves
		And the haze of mist and distance
		There was One, standing on the rocks
		  a thousand feet above death

		        who dove

		  and did not fall to earth


							Jim Kirk Apr-87

I had a dream

And in this dream everything was on a Grander Scale

	Words were Sentences,
	Sentences were Chapters,
	And Books were Entire Histories of Culture.

	Noise was Music
	Notes were Chords,
	And Symphonies were the Pouring Out of All Passion.

	Passing Thoughts were People,
	And People were All who Ever Lived.
	My friend Joe was an entire Indian Nation.

		And what was God?  And what Was God?
		God was God, and God was still God

Jim Kirk      May-86

I had a dream,
		and in it I heard two voices.

The first was like thunder roiling across the sky:

   "I WILL MAKE PEACE! 
    Burning across the sky I will devastate ALL with my peace!
    I will make a peace that NONE shall oppose!
    Rolling across the landscape I WILL MAKE PEACE that NONE shall escape!
    I WILL MAKE PEACE!"

The second was as a whisper on the wind:

   "I will bring peace.
    Growing in people's hearts like wildflowers in the meadow.
    I will bring such peace that all shall desire it.
    Overflowing from the heart my peace shall flood all places.
    I will bring Peace."
    
Jim        Sep-87

    These are beautiful Jim, thank *you*!  I would like very much to see 
    the sketch that accompanies the first.  Maybe at the C-P dinner which 
    is in the works...?
    
    Karen

			AND GOD SAID, "NO"

		I asked God to take away my pride,
			And God said, "No."
		He said it was not for Him to take away,
			but for me to give up.
		I asked God to make my handicapped child whole,
			And God said, "No."
		He said her spirit is whole,
			her body only temporary.
		I asked Got to grant me patience,
			And God said, "No."
		He said that patience is a by-product of tribulation.
			It isn't granted, It's earned.
		I asked God to give me happiness,
			And God said, "No."
		He said he gives blessings,
			happiness is up to me.
		I asked God to spare me pain,
			And God said, "No."
		He said, "Suffering draws you apart from wordly cares
			and brings you closer to Me."
		I asked God to make my spirit grow,
			And God said, "No."
		He said I must grow on my own,
			but He will prune me to make me fruitful.
		I asked God if he loved me,
			And God said, "Yes."
		He gave me His only Son who died for me,
			and I will be in Heaven someday
			because I believe.
		I asked God to help me love others 
			as much as he loves me,
		And God said,
			"Ah, finally, you have the Idea."

				St. Michael's Episcopal Church, Colo Spgs
				July 1991 Newsletter

    Also see 124.84
    
    Richard

     If a single child dies from hunger,
       then to that degree humanity itself is starving,
       and the potential for starvation is present for everyone;
     We are all in this together.


     When a single person lives without shelter,
       then to that degree humanity itself is homeless,
       and the potential for homelessness is present for everyone;
     We are all in this together.


     If one person holds hatred toward another,
       then to that degree humanity itself is at war,
       and the potential for war is present for everyone;
     We are all in this together.


     When a single person transcends the differences,
       recognizes the unity, and extends the bounds of human awareness,
       then to that degree humanity itself is free,
       and the potential for freedom is present for everyone;
     Herein lies the hope for humanity.


     It is all our choice;
     We are all in this together.

    That poem brings tears to my eyes...
    
    love and hugs to the author!
    
    Ro
    

    *Thanks* Jeff.
    
    Karen

The following is not a poem, but actually the words to a song we sang last
evening at worship.  Still, I thought this topic suitable for its placement.

Peace,
Richard


	Our God Is Like An Eagle
	------------------------

	When Israel camped in Sinai, God spoke and Moses heard
	  this message, "Tell the people,
	    and give them this my word;
	From Egypt I was with you.  I bore you on my wing.
	  This whole of your great nation,
	    from slav'ry I did bring.

	Just as a mother eagle who helps her young to fly,
	  I am a mother to you;
	    your needs I will supply.
	And you are my children, my own who hear my voice.
	  I am a mother to you,
	    the people of my choice."

	If God is like an eagle, who helps her young to fly,
	  And God is also father,
	    then what of you and I?
	We have no fear of lablels; we have no fear of roles.
	  God blends them and transcends them;
	    we seek the self same goals.

	Our God is not a woman; our God is not a man.
	   Our God is both and neither;
	     our God is I WHO AM.
	From all the roles that bind us, our God has set us free.
	   What freedom does God give us?
	     The freedom just to be.

The following are the words to a song I learned this past weekend at a
Christian growth retreat.  They are among the most profoundly and genuinely
touching I've ever heard:

	"How could anyone ever tell you

		that you're anything less than beautiful?

	How could anyone ever tell you

		that you're anything less than whole?

	How could anyone fail to notice

		that your loving is a miracle?

	How deeply you're connected to my soul."

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,
Unuttered or expressed;
The motion of a hidden fire,
That trembles in the breast.
Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
The falling of a tear,
The upward glancing of an eye
When none but God is near.

			-James Montgomery

The poem which follows in the next entry was written by Nicholas Peters
just after the outbreak of World War II in 1939.  Peters emigrated from
from Russia in 1925 as a boy of 10, and had seen firsthand the horrors of
war there.  He joined the Royal Candaian Air Force in 1940.  He died March
7, 1945, after his aircraft was hit by enemy fire.

Reprinted here with permission.

Richard

I gaze into the world with sorrowing eyes
And see the wide-abounding fruits of hate.
We fight, we say, for peace, and find
The wars we make
To be a spring of hate and source of future war.

Is there no peace for man?
No hope that his accursed flow
Of blood may cease?
Is this our destiny: to kill and maim
For peace?

Or is this 'peace' we strive to gain
A thin, unholy masquerade
Which, when our pride, our greed, our gain is
touched too far,
Is shed, and stands uncovered, what we are?

Show me your light, O God,
That I may fight for peace with peace
And not with war;
To prove my love with love
And hate no more!

			- Nicholas Peters

The thunder and lightning gave voice to the night.
	The little lame child cried aloud in her fright.
"Hush, little baby, a story I'll tell
	Of a love that has vanquished the powers of hell.
	Aleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings & fly!
	        Aleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings & fly!

Sweetness in the air and justice on the wind
	Laughter in the house where the mourners had been.
The deaf shall have music, the blind have new eyes.
	The standard of death taken down by surprise.
        Aleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings & fly!
                Aleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings & fly!

Release for the captives, an end to the wars,
	New streams in the desert, new hop for the poor.
The little lame children will dance as they sing
	And play with the bears and lions in Spring.
        Aleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings & fly!
                Aleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings & fly!

"Hush, little baby, let go of your fear.
	The Lord loves his own and your mother is here."
The child fell asleep as the lantern did burn.
	The mother sang on till her bridegroom's return.
        Aleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings & fly!
                Aleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings & fly!

"Why am I Painting the Living Room?" 

Holes in the ozone the size of Brazil
Barges of trash in the chewable breeze
Pools of industrial wasteland pate'
Sulpher dioxide dissolving the trees
Pretty soon it will all end with a boom
Why am I painting the living room?

I have the whole day off
Cause it's a Saturday.
There is a bluegrass band somewhere along the bay.
Look at the Lilacs bloom,
And here I am painting the living room.

Why am I painting the living room?

A pinhead evangelist pays for his sin
With five dollar fine for a black collar crime
Kingpins of industry knowingly nod
Just like Lake Erie they're 12% slime
They wink at the President, too, I assume
And here I am painting the living room.

I hear the bluebird sing
Don't let the day go by
Look at the blossoms blow over the big blue sky
All with a wild purfume
And here I am painting the living room.

Why am I painting the living room?

Ah yes, I can see how my tombstone will read
Here lies someone of exceptional worth
Though she did not do a lot for her kind
Or help hold together this crumbling Earth
Here lies a woman they're saing of whom...
Sure had a goodlooking living room.

Why am I painting the living room?

words and music by Peter Berryman

    
I am that dreadful, blighting thing,
Like ratholes to the flood,
Like rust that gnaws the faultless blade,
Like microbes to the blood.

I know no mercy and no truth,
The young I blight, the old I slay.
Regret stalks darkly in my wake,
And Ignominy dogs my way.

Sometimes, in virtuous garb I rove,
With facile talk of easier way;
Seducing where I dare not rape
Young manhood, from its honor's away.

Again, in awesome guise I rush,
Stupendous, through the ranks of war,
Turning to water, with my gaze,
Hearts that, before, no foe could awe.

The maiden, who has strained from right,
To me must pay the mead of shame.
The patriot who betrays his trust,
To me must own his tarnished name.

I spare no class, no cult, or creed,
My course is endless through the year.
I bow all heads and break all hearts,
All owe me homage -- I am FEAR.

George S. Patton, 26 April 1920
(Found in the March 1945 "Cosmopolitan" magazine).

    Jerry Beeler sent this to me as part of a discussion we were having.
    I found it very moving. As a child, before I found Jesus as Lord
    and Savior I was quite often filled with fear. Fear of death, fear of
    life, you name it. Though I still fight the battle against fear I
    truly believe that without Jesus in my live I would have lost the
    battle years ago.

    			Alfred

Liberal Yearnings

Oh, my people, ain't that the truth
One enjoys signing checks on behalf of the starved
(Imagine them squatting beside one's fridge!)
A pleasure to mourn the homeless' fate
So long as the winos sleep under the bridge.
We lend to the governments money and sons
And, civilized beings, pray for peace.
If the work of the bombs we have paid for disturbs
Hearts gratefully bleed for refugees.
Who would condone the earth's demise?
Tears fall freely with the last tall trees.
The buffalo tongues which great-grandfathers ate
Serve to nourish the modern self-flagellent
Whiffs of carcasses rotting on the plains
Whipping the conscience a century late
Til we bathe in the useless emotion of guilt
Safe in the bunker our history has built.
How pleasant to commiserate and sigh alas
Over things that require no skin off one's ass.

		- John Liechty

[forwards deleted]

   Notice:  This poem is copyright 1992 by Harvey Ehrlich.  It is free to
distribute, without changes, as long as this notice remains intact.  All 
follow-ups, requests, comments, questions, distribution rights, etc should
be made to  mduhan@husc.harvard.edu .  Happy Holidays!


	'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
	How to live in a world that's politically correct?
	His workers no longer would answer to "Elves",
	"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
	And labor conditions at the north pole
	Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
	Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
	Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
	And equal employment had made it quite clear
	That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
	So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
	Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
	The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
	The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
	And people had started to call for the cops
	When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.
	Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
	His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."
	And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
	Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
	And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
	Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
	So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
	Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,
	Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
	Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
	And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
	That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
	Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
	Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
	Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
	Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
	Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
	Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
	Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
	Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.
	No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
	Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
	And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
	Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
	For they raised the hackles of those psychological
	Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
	No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
	Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
	Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
	And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
	So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
	He just could not figure out what to do next.
	He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
	But you've got to be careful with that word today.
	His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
	Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
	Something special was needed, a gift that he might
	Give to all without angering the left or the right.
	A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
	Each group of people, every religion;
	Every ethnicity, every hue,
	Everyone, everywhere...even you.
	So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
	"May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."
	
					(c)Harvey Ehrlich, 1992

How often, forgive I should,
A sister, a brother - seven times?
Maybe three strikes and you're out
Is better yet - baseball's gift to social policy.
And the merry voice came back,
	"seventy times seven."
"But that is too hard."
"With human beings, yes,
but with God's grace, all is possible."

The mighty know better,
and know nothing at all.

Crusades, jihads, pogroms, holocausts,
ethnic cleansing, excommunication,
silencing, repression, torture,
witness the rich wreckage of their insights.
Anything except apology.
Everything except forgiveness.

Only the broken hearted seem strong enough to risk loving an enemy
for the sake of both's children.
Only God's poor can "shoot the moon"
and dare the total prize of reconciling love.


			(taken from a greeting card)

re: Note 54.32 by Richard "Copernicus 3:16"

>			(taken from a greeting card)

Doesn't sound like Hallmark to me.   .-)

Seriously, I liked it.

Peace,

Jim

    .33  Nicaraguan Cards
         PO Box 5051
    	 Hyattsville, MD 20782
    
         (301) 699-0042
    
    

    At the foot of your table,
     I asked for the crumbs,
    I begged for some food,
     But you game me none
    
    At the door to your house,
     I asked for shelter,
    I looked for a place to stay,
     But you turned me away
    
    On the street,
     As I lay dying,
    You walked right on past me,
     Judging me and condemning me
    
    It was my friends who helped me up,
     Those that know me,
    That share my sorrows,
     That know my pain
    
    It was the despised and hated,
     That reached out their arms,
    And held me up,
     The ones you spurned
    
    I tell you,
     On the final day,
    I shall be there before the throne,
     To remind you of me
    
    I shall not raise my finger to accuse,
     Rather I shall stand to shame you,
    You followers of the Christ,
     That you claim you obey
    
    Where were you when I needed a drink?
     Where were you when I hungered?
    Where were you when I lay dying...
     You were outside shouting abuse
    

   The Rose 				   The Rose

(Words and music by Amanda McBroom)	(variation, anonymous)
copyright 1977,1979 Fox Fanfare Music,
Inc.

Some say love it is a river		Some say love it is a river
That drowns the tender reed		That drowns the tender reed
Then there's love that is a razor	Then there's love that is a razor
That leaves your tender soul to bleed	That leaves your tender soul to bleed
Some say love it is a hunger		I know love as someones hunger
An endless aching need			An endless painful need
I say love it is a flower		I want love to be a flower
And you its only seed			With me the special seed

It's a heart afraid of breaking		It's a heart betrayed and breaking
That never learns to dance		That fears to try and dance
It's the dream afraid of waking		It's the dream a nightmare waking
That never takes a chance		Afraid to take a chance
It's the one who wont be taken		It's the one who has been taken
Who cannot seem to give			Who cannot choose to give
And a soul afraid of dying		And a soul that's tasted dying
That never learns to live		That grieves, to learn to live

When the nights have been so lonely	When the nights have been so lonely
And the road has been so long		And the road has been so long
And you think that love is only		And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong		For another who is strong
Just remember in the winter		Just remember in your struggle
Far beneath the bitter snow		Like a seed beneath the snow
Lies a seed that with the suns love 	Rests a heart in hands of healing
In the spring becomes the rose		The precious you that is a rose
  

Life

To experience moments of happiness and joy.
and momments of pain, sadness, and frustration.
Waking up each day.
Putting one foot forward
Walking into whatever the day has to offer.
Rejoicing at the good,
Walking through the bad.
Focusing all the while
On That which sustains us through joy and sadness alike.

Death

The image of black corpses
plastered across the horizon
A father carrying his dead infant child
A toddler nursing from his dying mother.
A group of naked children posing for the photographer.
A few chubby and smiling.
Others malnourished and dying

All in need of  a precious   gifts.
Clean, fresh, water.

I pray to the Holy One of Israel
Let water spring from the dessert.
Let the water tankers arrive.

    
    
PDF
8/3/94

    Soldiers of the Cross
    ---------------------
    
    See 1069.1
    

    Good Friday
    -----------
    
    See 1069.2
    
    Shalom,
    Richard