POETRY OF THE SPIRIT SKSM Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Call to Worship
Come into this place
There are healing waters here
And hands with soothing balm
To ease your troubled days.
Bring your wounds and aching hearts
Your scars too numb to feel.
Your questions and complaints,
All are welcome here.
Rest awhile.
Let the warmth of this community
Surround you,
Hold you,
Heal you.
When you feel stronger,
Just a bit,
Notice those that need you too.
They are here.
They are everywhere.
Weep with them
Smile with them,
Work with them,
Laugh along the way.
Pass the cup,
Drink the holy fire.
Take it with you
Into the world.
We are saved
And we save each other
Again, again, and yet again.
Poem “Prayer “
Pray with me now,
If you will.
I think
We need
To pray.
Pray with me now,
Not out to some great intervener,
A handsome stranger,
Coming to the rescue.
You don’t have to barter your soul,
Your mind, your free and restless spirit.
Pray with me now.
We need to pray loudly sometimes
Giving voice with word or gesture.
To the urgent fires within our hearts.
Screaming out, “why this?”
“How long?”
Screaming out for help, for courage.
Outrage rumbles through our veins
And the pulse of our prayer is ragged.
Pray with me now,
If you will,
I think
We need
To pray.
We need to pray softly sometimes
Our silent bodies held still
A quiet hope rising to the wind
Blowing about the world in wonder.
Pray with me now.
Pray silently or out loud.
Our very prayers are an answer
The pulse of life, of hope
In our so very human hearts.
May our prayers be heard.
Message POETRY OF THE SPIRIT Rev. Theresa Novak
Some people are true poets. Poetry it is both an art and a craft and requires discipline to place words in such a way that the rhythm and meter enhance the images and their meanings. I am not a poet. But poetry is a spiritual practice for me. Most of the images in my poems come to me in my dreams or just upon waking up. Most often it feels like I am coming up with the words, but just writing them down, pulling them from a river that is flowing through me. When the poems don’t come that way, I know that I am disconnected from spirit and have to find my way back home again. I, of course, have a poem about that.
Something seems wrong
When the words won’t flow
With the force of a waterfall
There is cause for fear
When old faithful fails
And there is no release.
The waters churn
The ocean rolls
The spirit tries
The spirit yearns
The earth it slowly turns
Until patience brings
The sunrise
An unexpected delight
Once again
We are again waiting for a decision from the Supreme Court on marriage equality. I spent seven years in Utah serving out fabulous church in Ogden. I left last June, partly because I was tired of living in a state where my marriage was always in question.
This is one I wrote in 2013.
It is called “Waiting for the Supreme (Court that is)”
They say
They will decide
This month
Once but not
For all
For some
Not everyone
Freedom pulses
In short spurts
Not equal
Breath held
Waiting
Will it matter
For you
For me.
Justice cannot
Be made
By nine
Black robes
Unless it rolls
Down like water
Blessing us all
True vows
Like faith
Oh freedom
Will you
Come for me
I raged sometimes, and poetry helped me process that rage.
My rage it is building
It will not be contained
I must fight for my life
My love and my dream
Shall I burn
Down your temples
And set fire to your lies?
Shall I spit
In your faces
And call you to pay?
For your crimes
Against freedom
For the people who’ve died?
Ah, but
God is my witness
I can do none of those things
I will love
You instead
With pain and through tears
My fury will fuel
The new dawning day
Justice and mercy
Will rain down on us all.
And another one, called “Walk Proud”
You can creep about
With your head down
Shoulders bent
Weighted down by fear
You can avert your eyes
Maybe they won’t see you
If you can’t see them
Duck and cover might work
Still the blows come
While words rain down
Fag dyke fat bitch
Whatever they hate about you
You can run sometimes
You can even hide
Lock up your heart
Chain your free spirit down
But still their poison seeps
Into the air you need to breathe
Stand up
As tall as you can dare
Gather your friends around
Be yourself and
Look them in the eye
The blows may still come
But the truth will wash
The air around you clean
Whoever you are
You deserve this:
A real life
A chance to dream
There are others
Yearning to follow
Footsteps free from fear.
Walk proud.
Join the conga line.
I also write, specifically for worship. This one was for a servie on covenants of right relations.
Promises, promises
Which ones will we make?
Are they ones we will keep
Or ones we will break?
What does it matter?
Do we really care?
Will we look for the courage?
To take up the dare?
It is not always easy
To be kind or be good
We’ll fall on our faces
We won’t do as we should
But it’s still worth the effort
Although we will fail
Even when we blow it
We won’t end up in jail
A promise is a promise
It’s not a command
It is pledge for the future
So we know where to stand
I’ll remind you of yours
You’ll remind me of mine
Our promises together
Will bear fruit in good time
Another on a similar theme:
Will you walk with me
Across this great divide
The imagined distance
Between two souls
Worlds apart
Lives lived differently
Hopes perhaps the same
Will you stand with me
No matter what I say
Or think or do
Can I do the same for you
I will hold you
while you weep
Will you work with me
To dry the tears so quick to fall
Solitude is not an option
In this crowded crazy world
Walk with me.
And one on God:
If God could weep
For all the pain
That in this world abides
The tears would flow like rivers
The rain would never stop
Ocean waves like thunder
Would reach the mountain tops
If God could shout
A message out
For all the world to hear
The roar of words
Would echo round
This green and spinning sphere
If God could act
We’d surely have
Peace in all the lands
Food for all the hungry souls
And care for all the sick
If God is sleeping
I’d like to know
How to wake the Holy up
Most likely God is asking
That same question
Of every one of us.
Another:
How can we know God
If we won’t look into the mirror
Deep into our own eyes
How can we know faith
If we don’t trust ourselves to do
What we know is right
How can we know compassion
If we are not gentle and tender
To our own hurting souls
How can we know love
If we don’t remember
That our own feelings matter
Who bakes the bread
Who pours the wine
Our bodies and our blood
Are the sacraments of life
All creatures walk
The holy path
With twists and turns
With fear and doubt
Surprising joy
Around the bend.
This can be my life
This can be your life
Sacred journeys
Must begin somewhere
Why not here?
Why not now?
Why not you?
And for you who aspire to be ministers or other religious leaders:
Mantle of Ministry
What is this mantle?
This holy vestment
Of clerical fashion
Is it a superwoman cape
Or merely a disguise?
It can make me taller, thinner
It can amplify my voice
Bring courage to my path
It carries its own baggage
And sits by me at the station.
It cradles my shoulders
When I kneel trembling
In prayer or in despair
It offers comfort
When words do not suffice.
A heavy weight
It gives me wings
Lost, it leads me home
Buried in my bones
Lending the strength I need.
What is this cloth
Woven by the spirit swirling
Awesome and overwhelming
It is not worn lightly
And can’t be left behind.
Lessons learned in practice
Visions clarified
The call just keeps on coming
Echoes with the wind
There is ministry to do.
Swimming
If you walk along the shore
Waves might tease your feet
Drawing you into the sea’s embrace
Ankle deep the sand shifts
Taking the space from beneath your toes
Keep moving to stay still.
If you go deeper
Waves will pound your thighs
And bring you to your knees.
Stagger to your feet
Sand has scraped your hips
And salt has burned your eyes
The hardest place to stand
is in the midst of breaking waves
Punishment for indecision.
Beyond the breakers
The ocean swells in ecstasy
Longing draws you there.
The gentle pulse of tides
Rocks you in the heart of time
Gather courage and ride them home.
Two Old Poems from my time at Starr King School for the Ministry
With all the negative attention that Starr King School for the Ministry is getting in the press these days, I thought I would share these two poems that I wrote while a student. I will be forever grateful for the opportunity to study there. Bless this school….
This prayer was presented at the school’s orientation worship service on Friday, Aug. 27, 2004.
Divine Spirit,
Bless this school,
Bless all of the staff, the students, and the very bones of this building.
Bless our collective hopes and our universal fears. Bless the congregations that nurture and support us, And those we nurture and support in turn.
Teach us to speak the truth,
Both with power and with care.
The world is so full of hurt,
The weight of oppression so heavy,
It sometimes threatens to still our very hearts. Add your endless compassion
To our awkward words and faltering phrases. Guide us to wisdom.
Steep us in humility.
Lend us your strength and power, Soul of all understanding,
May we ride your deep river of Grace Into the valley of justice revealed.
A poem from May 2006 when I graduated from SKSM
Seminary Garden
We live in a wild garden here.
Strange plants
Surround us as we wander.
Some with thorns
And some with — Oh so fantastic blooms.
f
Sometimes we tarry on a bench
In rapture captured by
What feels like awesome possibilities found. Other times we struggle,
Bodies and souls clenched in yearning,
Lost amidst the tough weeds
Deep in the dank muck of despair.
Twisting paths through shade and light Cooling breeze and warming sun
Graced by solemn mysteries
Giddy laughter
Leads us on.
Forever on
And back
Again, again
To where it seems we started.
Gates we find,
Some open
Some locked and rusted shut.
We enter —
Or we don’t.
We leave the gate unlatched behind us — Or we don’t.
Others wander with us for a time
Dear souls.
f
Our fingertips touch in passing A whispered exchange Passwords shared,
Promises given.
The garden feeds us as we grow Then
Too suddenly it seems
It is time.
f
Farewell friends
There are more gardens
And wonders to share
We may meet again.
— Or not
But still
Always
We have shared this particular garden, This particular time.
Many blessings on the journey.
Trouble in Paradise – Starr King School for the Ministry
I have hesitated on whether or not to write this post. Starr King School for the Ministry (SKSM) is important to me. It is the seminary where I studied for the ministry, and there is so much pain there right now. I don’t want to add to that pain. But it seems to me in all the discussion about the disclosure of confidential information and the board’s response to that disclosure, several important points have been lost. Three of them are, in my opinion:
1. The underlying racism of the reaction to the selection of the Reverend Rosemary Bray McNatt as SKSM’s next president
2. Ignorance of the power dynamics of institutions, including those of small religiously liberal seminaries
3. Hubris and confusion about what the “empowerment ” of students actually means.
You can read the public documents from the school here.
Facebook has been totally popping, but I only know of one UU blogger who has commented so far. Scott Well’s comments are here. I found some of Scott’s comments less than generous in tone and that is partly why I have decided to add my own voice.
Disclaimer first: I have no inside information, just what I have gleaned online. Most of the discussion seems to be about an anonymous email that contained confidential information and the students whose degrees have not been granted while the school investigates to see if they were involved. Publicly disclosing confidential information is a serious ethical breech, not something that a minister should ever intentionally do, except in cases where there are legal reporting requirements. This wasn’t that kind of case, however. It was instead because a student or students (or others) were upset with the selection of the next president of the seminary and believed the selection process was flawed.
1. Racism
There were 3 finalists for the position, all well respected and highly qualified individuals. When the African American woman was selected as the new president it triggered a lot of frankly racist nonsense about her being somehow less qualified than the other two candidates. This is a major problem for a school that has as an emphasis on social justice work and educating to counter oppressions. It is also something that always happens when a person of color rises to a position of power and authority, so I guess no one should have been surprised. Think of those that still question where President Obama was born. It happens to women too, and there was a very similar reaction when the now outgoing president, Rebecca Parker was first selected. Everyone can have a favorite candidate and is certainly entitled to be disappointed if someone else is chosen, but would the reaction have been the same if the white male had been selected instead? Would his qualifications and credentials be disparaged? Would the selection process have been declared corrupt by anyone?
2. Ignorance of power dynamics
If you chose to attend a small school or if you chose to work for that school, there is an expectation that you will generally support the institution, and also the board and administration. Don’t bite the hand that you want to feed you. Understand where the power lies and approach it with respect. Constructive criticism is one thing, advice offered in love is a gift that, in my experience, is usually reasonably well received, even if it is not followed. A milder version of this incident occurred while I was a student there. One student took it upon herself to state publically that academic standards were being ignored by the school’s administration in certain selections. She at least signed her name, but the personal advice I gave her was that if she really felt that way, it was probably time for her to look at transferring to a different school. Similarly, faculty at a small school need to support school policies and the decisions of the board and administration, at least in all public discussion. If you can’t do that, you don’t belong there. You might even be fired. By the way, this is also true for the staff who work for our local congregations. An office administrator should not be trash talking about the minister – or visa versa for that matter. The whole really is greater than the parts.
3. Hubris
Whoever said that the students at the school should get to pick the faculty and the new president? Being able to give some input into such decisions is a gift, so to be outraged when another decision is made is just hubris in my opinion. This may be one of the systemic issues going on. Students are encouraged to speak truth to power and to be vocal on all sorts of social justice issues, but not enough attention appears to be given to the need for humility. The school is about so much more than the current student body and their opinions or even their careers. The outraged students don’t seem to understand that. If they hope to be effective ministers someday then they need to understand that the good of the congregation as a whole always trumps whatever personal issues the minister might have. Always. It can be a very difficult discernment process, but it is one that needs to be done. It should never just be about you; it has to be what is good for the whole, not what individuals think they want necessarily, but what will help them grow in their faith and also make a positive difference in their own lives and in the wider world.
I hope all involved can spend some reflection time on the following question:
What is the best thing I can do for the future of the school, for Unitarian Universalism, and ultimately for our world?
I happen to believe that both Unitarian Universalism and the world need the Starr King School for the Ministry. It is a very special place. It isn’t perfect, nothing is. If we want to be faithful and effective religious leaders then our mission must be to build things up and to make things better. Let’s all try and pray about it. That could help.
Tom Shade has some important things to say about power and authority (here)
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