tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71857297616306531032024-03-13T05:46:25.476-04:00City Called HeavenPaul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.comBlogger240125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-63359788029660610942021-09-10T23:00:00.014-04:002021-09-12T09:08:45.934-04:00Almost a dream<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1KyMbUBH94A/YTwhYbdeRfI/AAAAAAAAIS4/d-stGh1OI_g33RaUgICfI5r6Xr4ZP_cQQCLcBGAsYHQ/s680/World%2BTrade%2BCenter%2Bsunset%2Bon%2BSeptember%2B10%252C%2B2001.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; clear: right; float: right;"><img alt="" border="0" width="200" data-original-height="670" data-original-width="680" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1KyMbUBH94A/YTwhYbdeRfI/AAAAAAAAIS4/d-stGh1OI_g33RaUgICfI5r6Xr4ZP_cQQCLcBGAsYHQ/s200/World%2BTrade%2BCenter%2Bsunset%2Bon%2BSeptember%2B10%252C%2B2001.jpg"/></a></div>My prayers at 9/11<br>
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On the morning of September 11, 2001, somewhere between sleeping and wakening, I think I heard a low flying jet above me at 121st Street and Broadway. When I awoke and left my dorm room, Trevor said a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I went ahead to my first class of the new semester, on Aggression.*  I was there when the north tower fell, and the word came that classes were cancelled.<br>
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Over the next few years, I was exposed to a lot of prayer.<br>
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I remember the noon chapel service that day, and words of scripture,. And I especially remember John McGuckin in his cassock, standing off to the side in a corner of the chapel with prayerbook in hand, offering a silent witness of prayer while others spoke and sang.<br>
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When there was no need for blood at St. Luke’s Roosevelt, I went downtown to NYU Chapel, where I had just finished my internship, and arrived just as the priest was leaving after a very hard day. Hassan, our Muslim security guard, graciously allowed me to stay and keep the doors open, and there I prayed as others wandered in for refuge, for company, for rest, for a place to sit with what they had seen and heard. Shock, stories, prayers, fears, tears were shared in the sacred space.<br>
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Coming home on the subway I met a firefighter in the Columbus Street station. He looked shell-shocked. He said there was so little he could do. He went downtown with a group from his firehouse, but was returning alone. Ralph’s story is a prayer.<br>
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As Jesus came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, "If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace!" (Luke 19:41-44)<br>
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Over the next days and months, as I was given the grace to be a chaplain, each day as I would enter and leave my site, I would linger some moments at the walls filled with pictures and flyers of those who were being sought, the holy missing. My prayer was to touch the paper, to see their faces and whisper their names to my heart.<br>
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In October there was a memorial service for families at the still-smoking World Trade Center site. While prayers were spoken by religious dignitaries, I found prayer in "Almonds and Raisins," a Yiddish lullaby. And then someone came seeking help. A father grieving his young son. We sat together in a golf cart parked outside a closed deli on Vesey Street. He shared something of his story and his son, through sobs and silence. At a time I asked him if he would like prayer, and as I began to pray, I was startled as, phrase by phrase, he repeated those words as his prayer. Perhaps I was only repeating the words given to me, for the Spirit helps us in our weakness.<br>
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Many more prayers were said over the coming months. After the World Trade Center site was officially closed, I was not ready to go home, even though life, of course, continued. I became a chaplain for the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, charged with identification, preservation, and care of the human remains found following the attack.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H3y4VxrdwgM/YTwe5QI5pzI/AAAAAAAAISk/QEwHf-jkJds736yw5-qh1CqB9hvHLMEUACLcBGAsYHQ/s669/psalm-23-yechiel-abramov%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; clear: right; float: right;"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="669" data-original-width="500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H3y4VxrdwgM/YTwe5QI5pzI/AAAAAAAAISk/QEwHf-jkJds736yw5-qh1CqB9hvHLMEUACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/psalm-23-yechiel-abramov%2B%25282%2529.jpg"/></a></div>
I heard the story of a group of Jewish women, students at the nearby Stern School of Business. The Jewish, and especially the orthodox community, had been acting as <i>shomerim</i>, or "watchers." In Jewish tradition, a shomer watches the corpse of the recently dead, and reads psalms, while the community prepares for burial, normally as soon as possible after death. On the Sabbath, many men who served as shomerim could not travel to the morgue. So the women came, and watched, and prayed the psalms in the presence of the numbered body parts. So when I came to the big white tent filled with refrigerator trailers, I followed in their footsteps.<br>
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The Lord is my shepherd...<br>
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What profit is there in my death, if I go down to the Pit?<br>
Will the dust praise you? Will it tell of your faithfulness?<br>
Hear, O Lord, and be gracious to me!<br>
     O Lord, be my helper!<br>
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Prayer is not the only response to crisis, to life and death. But it is a true response.<br>
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There were uncounted other prayers, spoken, silent, with groans and weeping and song. And there were so many prayers that were lived, in acts of kindness, courage, generosity, and yes, sacrifice.<br>
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I give thanks for those many people weaving together the cloth of community and healing.<br>
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May Almighty God hold as holy every life taken by violence, every action taken to care for one another, and every good work to seek healing.<br>
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<b>Credits</b><br>
Uncredited. Last picture of the World Trade Center sunset on September 10, 2001. <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/interestingasfuck/comments/jh5f1t/last_picture_of_the_world_trade_center_sunset_on">https://www.reddit.com/r/interestingasfuck/comments/jh5f1t/last_picture_of_the_world_trade_center_sunset_on</a><br>
Yechiel Abramov. Oil painting of Psalm 23 (in Hebrew). <a href="https://pixels.com/featured/psalm-23-yechiel-abramov.html">https://pixels.com/featured/psalm-23-yechiel-abramov.html</a><br>
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* The professor of that class, Ann Ulanov, together with her husband Barry, wrote a short book on prayer which has been influential to me (Primary Speech: A Psychology of Prayer, 1982). Prayer is not about rules; there is no right way to pray. Both psychoanalysts, they see prayer as potentially a whole body and whole spirit enterprise. Wherever and however you may locate the holy, prayer is deep communication involving our conscious and unconscious, the visible and the secret. Prayer is not limited by space and time. Prayer is about this communion between the varied parts of ourselves and with an Other.<br>
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Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-89217930303973289152020-09-11T15:52:00.005-04:002020-09-11T17:19:02.890-04:00Where were you then? Where are you now?<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NifwCwkRYpw/X1vGblq5cHI/AAAAAAAAH7Q/bHtpWQ4D9bE6lyEIzYHG2gvj8r9NKVDLQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200907_155720.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; clear: right; float: right;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NifwCwkRYpw/X1vGblq5cHI/AAAAAAAAH7Q/bHtpWQ4D9bE6lyEIzYHG2gvj8r9NKVDLQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/20200907_155720.jpg"/></a></div>
Nineteen years is not <i>that</i> long ago in the grand scheme of things. But a lot has changed in the world.<br>
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One thing that persists is grief. There are too many more losses. The mourning for 9/11 is not concluded, and more tragedy has come to the world.<br>
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It is important to remember what has happened. If we do not notice the devastations around us, what <i>will</i> we pay attention to?<br>
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And if we notice <i>only one</i> tragedy, we are frozen in time, blind, deaf, and numb to the world we live in.<br>
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Because of the confluence of circumstances, 9/11 is probably the most memorialized single event in history. If you were more than two or three years old and living in the U.S., 9/11 was part of your life. And it was a moment in time where we had the world's sympathy and help.<br>
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This past Labor Day, Lisa and I visited the Harborview 9/11 Memorial Park in Bayonne. It holds the Tear of Grief memorial, a gift from the Russian people (officially named "To the Struggle Against World Terrorism"). We remembered how the day of the visit was the 19th anniversary of our last remembered occasion seeing the World Trade Center towers together. We'd gone into New York to pickup something at J&R Music World, and then took the Staten Island Ferry, with its wonderful views of the harbor.<br>
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How tall they stood.<br>
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Much has happened since that day. The towers, of course, were attacked and fell just four days later, taking with them thousands of lives. Many that day, many more in the aftershocks around the world, and a growing number each year of the responders who service compromised their health.<br>
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No speeches today from me, only honor and remembrance, for those who were there, and for the uncounted numbers who came forth in response. When the towers fell, you stood up.<br>
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God bless and keep you.<br>
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Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-90904703123433608802020-09-07T23:59:00.005-04:002020-09-08T00:19:10.896-04:00Loooouuuuuuuuuuuu! Lou Brock, Baseball Hall of Famer, 1939-2020When you're a boy in growing up in St. Louis, you learn about baseball. My Dad took me to my first baseball game in 1963, at the old Sportman's Park, to see the great Stan Musial play in his last season. I was a little young to understand what was going on, except that it was a Big Deal. Baseball was Important.<br>
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I missed the 1964 World Series, but by 1966 or '67 I was playing ball myself and was, of course, a Cardinal fan. And what a time that was. In '67 they would win the World Series, and in '68 lose in a dramatic Game 7. It was a solid team, with some of the best players of the day and some for the ages. The '67 team was managed and general managed by future Hall of Famers (Red Schoendiest and Musial). Dal Maxvill, Julian Javier, Mike Shannon, Orlando Cepeda in the infield. Tim McCarver behind the plate. Two Hall of Famers in the starting rotation, Steve Carlton and the great Bob Gibson. Roger Maris and Curt Flood in right and center field. And the thrilling, exhilerating, and often accelerating <b>Lou Brock</b>.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VYHWIJ58CZU/X1cAQp8k9zI/AAAAAAAAH6Y/RtKfvEShfVUXn-OWzX2d4k86FBN5ocXhwCLcBGAsYHQ/s858/lou%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="461" data-original-width="858" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VYHWIJ58CZU/X1cAQp8k9zI/AAAAAAAAH6Y/RtKfvEShfVUXn-OWzX2d4k86FBN5ocXhwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/lou%2B%25282%2529.jpg"/></a></div><br>
In a 19 year career, he averaged more than a hit per game, batting .293 lifetime, and incredibly, batted .304 in his final season, at age 40. He was Mister October for the Cardinals, holding 3 World Series records (13 hits in the 1968 series, 14 stolen bases in World Series play, and the most hits in a single series, 13 in 1968).<br>
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But it was on the basepaths that he took your breath away. He broke Ty Cobb's all-time major league stolen base record, a record which had stood for 51 years. Brock led the National League in stolen bases for a record eight times and also had a record 12 consecutive seasons with 50 or more stolen bases.<br>
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But it was more than the records. When Brock was on base it was electric. You <i>always</i> thought he would steal. He would crouch and stretch a lead, every lead a dare, and often unsettling the pitcher. Brock is quoted as saying "The only way to be sure I don't steal is to keep me from getting to first base," and watching him made you a believer.<br>
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Growing up in rural Southern poverty, Brock did not play organized baseball until the 11th grade. Five years later he was in the big leagues. He had a dynamism that brought excitement every time he was in action.<br>
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Brock's teammate from 1968-77 and fellow Hall of Famer Ted Simmons, said he'll remember two things about Brock. "First was his vibrant smile. Whenever you were in a room with Lou, you couldn't miss it -- the biggest, brightest, most vibrant smile on earth. The other was that he was surely hurt numerous times, but never once in my life did I know he was playing hurt."<br>
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I am grateful for the example of excellence he and his teammates provided when baseball was a metaphor for life. He knew how to pick his moment and go all out for it!<br>
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Rest in peace, dear Loooouuuuuuuuuuuu!<br>
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Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-81044454706277990932020-06-02T21:32:00.002-04:002020-06-02T21:45:32.004-04:00The Desolating SacrilegeA Dictionary of the Bible includes a definition of the "desolating sacrilege" (NRSV; ‘abomination of desolation’, AV and REB in Mark 13: 14; ‘appalling abomination’, NJB).<br>
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"The phrase is used in Dan. 9: 27 to denote the pagan altar set up in the Jerusalem Temple by Antiochus Epiphanes in 167 BCE; and in Mark 13: 14 it may refer to the failed attempt by the emperor Caligula to install his statue in the Temple (40 CE) or to an event such as the display of army emblems in the Temple in the war of 66–70 CE. Luke (21: 20) probably has the siege of the city in mind..." (<a href="http://www.oxfordbiblicalstudies.com/article/opr/t94/e519">A Dictionary of the Bible, Oxford Biblical Studies</a>).<br>
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How strongly can you say it? How can you communicate the outrage when the life is crushed out of a man on a Minneapolis street, or the perverse claims righteousness is their property, as they bring devastation to a holy place?<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W5jgHeuzXbU/Xtb7qkXI5FI/AAAAAAAAHx0/cMVojnk95oMjmwIfsShq4RGE8txdgXZaQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/The%2BDesolating%2BSacrilege.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W5jgHeuzXbU/Xtb7qkXI5FI/AAAAAAAAHx0/cMVojnk95oMjmwIfsShq4RGE8txdgXZaQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/The%2BDesolating%2BSacrilege.jpg" width="640" height="427" data-original-width="800" data-original-height="534" /></a></div><br>
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Imperial power demands that all bow before it. Yet it is illegitimate. The emperor has never had any clothes. The Living God does not <i>command</i> obedience - it <i>calls forth</i> obedience, from a position of goodness, or righteousness, of love, and of justice.<br>
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Wanting to act like God is a human failing. We can never fulfill the role. The harder we try, the harder we fall. May God have mercy on our nation.<br>
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<u>Credits</u>:<br>
<a href="https://www.mysuburbanlife.com/2020/06/01/trump-threatens-to-deploy-military-to-us-cities-to-end-protests/ae14hgy">Photo</a>, uncredited from my source, probably Associated Press.<br>
<br>Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-55760661486313010022020-05-16T22:50:00.001-04:002020-05-16T22:50:11.245-04:00The Walk to (and From) EmmausYou may have been blessed to have Someone, perhaps many Someones, in your life who cared for you, who mentored you, who helped awaken you to the best there is in you. Who opened to you the book of yourself and the book of life. Perhaps they are still with you. Perhaps they have passed in one way or another, and you feel their loss.
<a href="www.facebook.com/paulbellanboyer/videos/10219790982219629">The Walk</a>.<br>
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Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-76327480168870515462020-05-16T22:12:00.001-04:002020-05-16T22:43:23.046-04:00Locked in, but not locked out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0lEJk27uvTQ/XsCkvWBJdiI/AAAAAAAAHwQ/9n-q5hUZWMcDaY76xDWXC5Rr5px6C-VUACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/2%2BEaster%2BCross%2B%25282%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0lEJk27uvTQ/XsCkvWBJdiI/AAAAAAAAHwQ/9n-q5hUZWMcDaY76xDWXC5Rr5px6C-VUACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/2%2BEaster%2BCross%2B%25282%2529.png" width="150" height="320" data-original-width="316" data-original-height="676" /></a></div>I have heard a lot of good preaching. This is among the best. As a preacher myself, about the best response you can get it "It spoke to me." It did. Thank you, preacher.<br>
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The two fit together but don't miss <a href="https://www.facebook.com/paulbellanboyer/videos/10219706672791946">Locked In, but Not Locked Out</a>. Sermon for the Second Sunday of Easter, preached by Rev. Lisa Bellan-Boyer.<br>
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Gospel & "Children's" Sermon<br>
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/paulbellanboyer/videos/10219710578649590">Catch & Release</a><br>
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Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-76239385165007338392020-04-10T21:37:00.000-04:002020-04-10T21:40:15.602-04:00Jesus walks with the CrossEach of the previous six Good Fridays, a procession of grief and hope has walked with Jesus to sites of violence in Jersey City, remembering how the Passion of Christ connects with our present-day reality. This year we regretfully and wisely do that remembrance at home.<br>
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Of course, Jesus also remembers, and continues to walk with those who suffer.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sUS15MjJxE4/XpEa-XQ36uI/AAAAAAAAHso/Rj-Rd8MrI6Y9fK3RKEeHWMZQL2E80QjCQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20200410_171255%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sUS15MjJxE4/XpEa-XQ36uI/AAAAAAAAHso/Rj-Rd8MrI6Y9fK3RKEeHWMZQL2E80QjCQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20200410_171255%25281%2529.jpg" width="270" height="320" data-original-width="1351" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><b>The first station</b>. He is condemned to death. Eleven days ago, a beloved child of God was killed at Triangle Park.<br>
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My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?<br>
Why are you so far from helping me,<br>
from the words of my groaning?   <small><i>Psalm 22:1</i></small><br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TyqHAsThJhk/XpEbpBVJHdI/AAAAAAAAHsw/xyHJKsx7PbU1FlgoddWhteYpX26IhtgPgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20200410_172310%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TyqHAsThJhk/XpEbpBVJHdI/AAAAAAAAHsw/xyHJKsx7PbU1FlgoddWhteYpX26IhtgPgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20200410_172310%25281%2529.jpg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><b>The next station</b>. He falls the first time. Five days ago, a beloved child of God was shot and killed on Ocean Avenue, between Bidwell and Bayview.<br>
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O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;<br>
and by night, but find no rest.   <small><i>Psalm 22:2</i></small><br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83CQpPBhBwE/XpEdDmA2egI/AAAAAAAAHs8/79U0kK8M-H4BAJ28CS2I8QFogzTFfsKhACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20200410_173021%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83CQpPBhBwE/XpEdDmA2egI/AAAAAAAAHs8/79U0kK8M-H4BAJ28CS2I8QFogzTFfsKhACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20200410_173021%25281%2529.jpg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><b>The next station</b>. He falls the third time. Four days ago, a beloved child of God was shot and killed in the area of Martin Luther King Drive and Myrtle Avenue.<br>
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All who see me mock at me;<br>
they make mouths at me, they shake their heads;<br>
“Commit your cause to the Lord; let him deliver—<br>
let him rescue the one in whom he delights!”   <small><i>Psalm 22:7-8</i></small><br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wezGtGAE6FI/XpEfQSvNlsI/AAAAAAAAHtM/wTdxhR6eSqE5UT1Di5GphRUWIr-YfIybwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20200410_190601.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wezGtGAE6FI/XpEfQSvNlsI/AAAAAAAAHtM/wTdxhR6eSqE5UT1Di5GphRUWIr-YfIybwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20200410_190601.jpg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><b>The next station</b>. She falls the third time. Nine days ago, a beloved child of God was shot at the corner of Martin Luther King Drive and Oak St. She died the next day. A man was wounded on the corner of Forrest St.<br>
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I am poured out like water,<br>
and all my bones are out of joint;<br>
my heart is like wax;<br>
it is melted within my breast;<br>
my mouth is dried up like a potsherd,<br>
and my tongue sticks to my jaws;<br>
you lay me in the dust of death.   <small><i>Psalm 22:14-15</i></small><br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MiFRBUlYAjg/XpEfCr3Hl6I/AAAAAAAAHtI/pzonG5-z-bkhthGIP6B6vN0MGfFlyWccgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20200410_172351%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MiFRBUlYAjg/XpEfCr3Hl6I/AAAAAAAAHtI/pzonG5-z-bkhthGIP6B6vN0MGfFlyWccgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20200410_172351%25281%2529.jpg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><b>And the next station</b>... well, doesn’t that have something to do with us?<br>
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How long, O Lord? You are always with those who fall. How long before others’ suffering becomes ours? How long before we care enough to intervene. How long before the fallen be lifted help, the broken be made whole, the world be healed?<br>
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But you, O Lord, do not be far away!<br>
O my help, come quickly to my aid!<br>
Deliver my soul from the sword...   <small><i>Psalm 22:19-20</i></small><br>
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May God look with mercy upon this fallen world, and enable us to see the new life waiting to be born of our present travail.<br>
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How long, O Lord? How long?<br>
<br>Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-4749518308007368002020-03-24T23:11:00.001-04:002020-03-24T23:11:51.428-04:00A packed church, or...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g6EK85NJDHI/XnrLvuhkZsI/AAAAAAAAHrg/RYf-YMpxQe8wYeCDNvespLi0R1AmZq5dwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Packed%2Bchurches%252C%2Bempty%2Btombs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g6EK85NJDHI/XnrLvuhkZsI/AAAAAAAAHrg/RYf-YMpxQe8wYeCDNvespLi0R1AmZq5dwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Packed%2Bchurches%252C%2Bempty%2Btombs.jpg" data-original-width="1058" data-original-height="1292" /></a></div>Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-11901767109564313142020-01-19T22:08:00.002-05:002020-01-21T11:36:33.769-05:00The glad news<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9mhSbLS_7yc/Xg6ND75NdcI/AAAAAAAAHhI/cDZTCCsH3ScyGVeSqJca-mBI2d7Mcwr4QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/7760196252_97622e5d6e_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9mhSbLS_7yc/Xg6ND75NdcI/AAAAAAAAHhI/cDZTCCsH3ScyGVeSqJca-mBI2d7Mcwr4QCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/7760196252_97622e5d6e_b.jpg" width="490" height="319" data-original-width="1023" data-original-height="681" /></a></div>
<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+40&version=NRSV">Psalm 40</a><br>
<small>Sermon for the 2nd Sunday after Epiphany, Year A</small><br>
<br>
Today I'd like to focus on a couple of the things which are at the core of who we are as a Church.<br>
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This psalm is rooted in testimony. The Lord heard my cry, he lifted me out of the mire, established me on solid ground, and gave me the gift of praise. There is a new and glorious song in my mouth. And I want to go tell it on the mountain, I want to tell everyone what God has done <i>for me</i>.<br>
<br>
Those two words - for me - are so important to our life of faith. For Martin Luther, finally hearing these words in scripture helped him overcome his fears of being unworthy, and believe that God was on his side. God's work and God's love are not an abstract concept of theology - "for me" brings them up close and personal. "For me" takes God's saving action out of the future and makes it immediate, present, here and now.<br>
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God has been "gooder than good." God has acted on my behalf, delivering me from whatever pit I was in. While there are real enemies, so often we are complicit in our own destruction. Here we are able to recognize that "my iniquities have overtaken me." The combination of my own faults and those who wish me evil have brought me to despair: "my heart fails me."<br>
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We've talked enough that I've heard some of your stories, and God knows I've got some of my own. So many things can lead us astray, to believe we are isolated, shamed, which block our access to hope. The death of a loved one, loss of a home, pain, addiction, illness, legal troubles, persecution... Most of us have had times when things were bleak, when we felt we could not go on.<br>
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"Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me..." And so she did. The psalm does not detail the precise form of rescue. But it repeats, in multiple dimensions, God's personal act of salvation. I may have been in the depths - but you did not require me to be right. You did not ask me to act pious or perform rituals for you to draw near, to listen to my misery and hear my plea. You did not requre me to be better than I was, or better than I am, for you to reach out and lift me up.<br>
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You know how bad it was. My sins took over me. I suffered trouble after trouble. Against that, I have only your steadfast love. And that is everything.<br>
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You are changing my sight and my insight. No longer can I give any credit to what the world worships. Your Word has become part of me. And I can't hide that even if I wanted to.<br>
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You, O God, are what I proclaim. Your mercy, your power, your wonders-worked. I cannot forget, nor keep silent about, how you delivered me. For no reason other than your love.<br>
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This is the story the church tells over and over again, the old old story that is new again each time we stand up and declare God's salvation, made real in our sight and in our lives. This is what awakens hope, what quickens faith, whether we are heading it for the first time, or as our thousandth drink from this ever-flowing spring.<br>
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Happy are those who make the Lord their trust, who turn not to billionaires or political "saviors," not to drug or drink or lottery tickets, not to fake news or false hopes. God is the One who is worthy of our trust. Who God is, is <b><u><i>for us</i></u></b>.<br>
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Yet this is not a "one and done" story. One of the interesting features of this psalm is the way in which it moves back and forth, between praise and thanks for the deliverance which has already been achieved, and <i>also</i> makes a plea for help in the present tense. My need for your help, O Lord, continues in real time. I am still poor and needy. And still, the Lord "takes thought for me."<br>
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The Lord is my help. The Lord is my healer. The Lord is my shepherd, my guide, my protector. And the Lord is my Salvation.<br>
<br>
So let me sing that new song from my heart, again this day. God has done this all <u><i>for me</i></u>. How great thou art!<br>
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<i>[The congregation moved directly into singing the hymn "How Great Thou Art.]</i><br>
<br>
NOTE: The bulk of this sermon comes from a reflection on <a href="http://www.prayingthepsalms.org/2020/01/psalm-40-i-have-told-glad-news.html">Psalm 40</a>, on my blog, <a href="http://www.prayingthepsalms.org">Praying the Psalms</a>, which at this writing includes pieces on 103 psalms.<br>
<br>
<u>Credits</u>:<br>
Chris Hunkeler, <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/chrishunkeler/7760196252">Belting Out the Vocals</a>, Reuben M. Koroma of the Refugee All Stars, August 10, 2012. Used under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">(CC BY 2.0)</a>. The Refugee All Stars is a band formed by already accomplished musicians when war forced them from their homeland into the border camps of Guinea. Discovering one another and forging a musical family, they began entertaining other camp residents. Since their return to Sierra Leone after the civil war, they band has toured to raise awareness for humanitarian causes.<br>
<br>
"The Message" translation, by Eugene Peterson, was particularly helpful <i>for me</i> in shifting how I heard the psalm.<br>
<br>
* New Revised Standard Version Bible (NRSV), copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.<br>
Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-4136145486694751602019-07-04T12:17:00.000-04:002019-07-04T13:55:57.618-04:00Independence Day 2019<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C0mOtDkn3x8/XR4la9VjiCI/AAAAAAAAHXo/v_N4qWIKT1U_POSUJ76-V5ijYqY6qwJ5QCLcBGAs/s1600/let-freedom-ring-881x846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C0mOtDkn3x8/XR4la9VjiCI/AAAAAAAAHXo/v_N4qWIKT1U_POSUJ76-V5ijYqY6qwJ5QCLcBGAs/s400/let-freedom-ring-881x846.jpg" width="400" height="384" data-original-width="881" data-original-height="846" /></a></div>Each July 4th, Americans celebrate the 1776 declaration of independence from the colonial power of England.<br>
<br>
How good it is to loose the bonds of oppression, to gain freedom from powers which promote injustice and inflict harm, to find liberation from that which keeps us down. Not only tyrants, but illness, poverty, hunger, racism, pain, depression... whatever has us chained.<br>
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Today is also a good day to remember and honor our DE-pendence, something we tend to view less favorably. But it is our reality. We depend on so many things that are good and right. We depend on those who do the work we cannot, who grow our food or fix our roads, or expand the frontiers of science or enliven the soul through the arts. We depend on just laws and equal rights.<br>
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We depended upon our parents to bring us into the world. We depend on family and friends, teachers and mentors, on those who care for us when we cannot, and upon those who love us and those we love.<br>
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And yes, we depend upon the love and mercy of God, whose goodness undergirds all of creation, our every breath, and our hope in the wholeness that is God’s desire, and ours.<br>
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May this day be one of blessing to you and our nation.<br>
<br>
Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-61329693220112278292019-05-27T21:54:00.001-04:002019-05-27T21:54:43.253-04:00Memorial<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iIY443XtNTg/XOyUrWkzb0I/AAAAAAAAHWM/r4JBc2bg6rs--BgboOsO5DPfrlC6jUORgCLcBGAs/s1600/20190527_151223%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iIY443XtNTg/XOyUrWkzb0I/AAAAAAAAHWM/r4JBc2bg6rs--BgboOsO5DPfrlC6jUORgCLcBGAs/s320/20190527_151223%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="201" height="320" data-original-width="1006" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div>Memorial Day is designated to remember those who died while in the U.S. military services.<br>
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It recognizes not just those killed in battle, but all those who gave (and lost) their lives: through illness, accident, suicide, or any other cause. Their profound gift and sacrifice to their nation deserves our honor and memory.<br>
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There is not always a straight line between what the armed forces do and the liberty we treasure. But the willingness to put their lives in harm’s way makes those who serve in the military worthy of our gratitude and honor.<br>
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For those who died while in uniform, there are no veterans’ benefits, no parades, no chance to live the lives they might have. To them we owe a debt we cannot pay.<br>
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So let us give what we can. Care for those who survive them. Love of country and patriotic service to our shared ideals and our constitutional union – even when they may be a bit tattered. And let us never take their sacrifice for granted.<br>
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Remembering today Capt. Charles U. Warnick (Civil War) and Mamie Getter Miller (WW2), and all their many brothers and sisters in service.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aXtJdhWJPnM/XOyU1Q76NMI/AAAAAAAAHWQ/JrLv2ERybp0D3UsW9x6WAfzd2K2ZoqE9ACLcBGAs/s1600/20190527_152616%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aXtJdhWJPnM/XOyU1Q76NMI/AAAAAAAAHWQ/JrLv2ERybp0D3UsW9x6WAfzd2K2ZoqE9ACLcBGAs/s320/20190527_152616%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" height="241" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1204" /></a></div>Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-47474665251102438962019-04-21T03:47:00.003-04:002019-04-21T08:28:47.374-04:00Resurrection Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tYfXrwNWQio/XLwd0Ivpq-I/AAAAAAAAHS8/V0AasE8kFmseEKQkzeppCBHtoro_q3LnwCLcBGAs/s1600/emptytomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tYfXrwNWQio/XLwd0Ivpq-I/AAAAAAAAHS8/V0AasE8kFmseEKQkzeppCBHtoro_q3LnwCLcBGAs/s400/emptytomb.jpg" width="400" height="325" data-original-width="1080" data-original-height="878" /></a></div><i>On the first day of the week, at early dawn, [who had come with Jesus from Galilee] came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body.</i> <small><a href="http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Luke+24:1-12&vnum=yes&version=nrsv">Luke 24:1-2</a></small>*<br>
<br>
It is remarkable that the Church makes so much out of nothing.<br>
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You know, the women who loved Jesus, went to the tomb that morning with nothing but some burial spices to wrap his body, so it would stink less and rot slower.<br>
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They had nothing. Their teacher, their friend, their good shepherd was dead. All they could do was go through the motions, do what custom required, honor his meaning in the life, and hope they could get past this, somehow move on.<br>
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And then, even his body was gone. Any empty tomb. Nothing there. Nothing to see. Nothing left.<br>
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Who could have imagined what God was doing behind the scenes? Who could have imagined what God was doing with nothing.<br>
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Same as always. God has always been making something out of nothing.<br>
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Order out of chaos (Genesis 1). Life out of dust (Genesis 2). A people of promise out of wandering strangers. Freedom out of captivity (Exodus and just about everywhere). A feast, out of some scraps of bread and a couple of fish. A way out of no way. New life and a new people and a new hope for the world - out of murder and injustice. Saints out of sinners. Whole people from broken ones.<br>
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Who can imagine what God can do with what we see as nothing?<br>
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Today, we can.<br>
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<u>Credits</u>:<br>
Uncredited, <a href="https://vridar.org/2014/03/15/was-the-empty-tomb-story-originally-meant-to-be-understood-literally/">Empty tomb</a>. Used under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0">(CC BY 4.0)</a>.<br>
* New Revised Standard Version Bible (NRSV), copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.<br>
Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-40737246328370398202019-04-20T00:46:00.001-04:002019-04-20T01:00:42.988-04:00Saturday of Holy Week - Veiled<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7CeVLlf6rXY/XLh260RFs0I/AAAAAAAAHSg/IbuG3O9oLz4eCTJO8t4k0Giy_C3LMbJEQCLcBGAs/s1600/Cristo_Velato_Volto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7CeVLlf6rXY/XLh260RFs0I/AAAAAAAAHSg/IbuG3O9oLz4eCTJO8t4k0Giy_C3LMbJEQCLcBGAs/s400/Cristo_Velato_Volto.jpg" width="320" height="400" data-original-width="950" data-original-height="1188" /></a></div>
Yesterday it was done. Finito. They laid him in the tomb and rolled a stone against the door.<br>
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Today... nothing. The scriptures are silent. While the holy day of Pesach (Passover) and Sabbath take place, the story takes a rest.<br>
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The rivers of lambs' blood from the Passover sacrifices have been washed down the mount. People have gone to their homes to observe the Passover Sabbath behind the safety of their doors. Jesus' disciples are in hiding, in shock, in disbelieving grief, some in fear and trembling, hoping that further retribution will pass over their doors. Probably the Roman soldiers are on alert for further disturbances, but keeping a low profile, expecting that with the holy day arrived and the latest messiah safely in his tomb, things will quiet down.<br>
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But no one can be sure. I imagine the holy city taking a breath, waiting to see if things get back to normal.<br>
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The sudden, violent death of a loved one throws the world into chaos. Any sense of safety and stability is compromised. Simple, normal activities can feel like huge challenges. Even breathing can seem to be a struggle.<br>
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If God has another word, it is at this point veiled. If something is being worked out, it is very much behind the scenes, like a seed planted in the earth.<br>
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So if you are a friend of Jesus, take this Holy Saturday as a Sabbath. Church folk may be preparing for the Easter which we know is coming, because it happened that glorious resurrection day almost 2,000 years ago. But please make the space to find your sense of safety and stability, to touch base with that Solid Rock that is the God who redeems the world.<br>
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<i>
     In your infinite mercy, Lord, please, please speak <br>
     to this injustice, and to our unbearable loss. <br>
     We can see no way through, but you are a way-maker. <br>
     Help us to trust in your eternal power for good, <br>
     and make us ready to receive your coming grace.<br>
</i>
<br>
<u>Credits</u>:<br>
Giuseppe Sanmartino, <a href="https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cristo_velato#/media/File:Cristo_Velato_Volto.jpg">Il Cristo velato</a> (Velied Christ), Naples, 1753. Photograph by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/argyle64/15225087681/in/album-72157647549969541">David Sivyer</a>. Used under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0">(CC BY-SA 2.0)</a>.<br>
Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-28878479974776276692019-04-18T07:39:00.001-04:002019-04-18T09:01:53.971-04:00Friday of Holy Week - Weep<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PVeHkxnSyds/XLf4Qy2660I/AAAAAAAAHSU/Gr33uY-LrQ49hqiVuKxXcHAeVJVhrn5RgCLcBGAs/s1600/768px-15th_Century_Crucifix%252C_Santa_Maria_e_San_Donato_in_Murano%2B2.2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PVeHkxnSyds/XLf4Qy2660I/AAAAAAAAHSU/Gr33uY-LrQ49hqiVuKxXcHAeVJVhrn5RgCLcBGAs/s640/768px-15th_Century_Crucifix%252C_Santa_Maria_e_San_Donato_in_Murano%2B2.2.jpg" width="329" height="640" data-original-width="526" data-original-height="1024" /></a></div>He laid down his head, and died.<br>
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There is a lot more in the story. He didn't get there by accident, or by himself. It took an empire, an unholy collaboration of Roman and Jewish law, of rulers, and soldiers just following orders, and people running away, standing by in shock, or just minding their own business.<br>
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But it winds up with the poor guy hanging lifeless on a cross, a rebel against the state, just another dead peasant.<br>
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Weep for him and weep for yourselves. Weep because he is not the first and is not the last. Weep because of his holiness and weep because of his humanity. Weep because we have not done what we ought to make a world without grosses, without warfare, mass shootings, "intimate" violence, poverty, oppression, domination and humiliation. <br>
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Weep because this incarnation of love was valued as less than nothing.<br>
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Every death, it seems, is in some way a slap in the face to hope. Even when expected, even at the end of a long happy life, even when it comes as a relief from suffering, if we are honest, we always hope for something different, something better.<br>
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If you have lost someone dear to you, you wonder what you could have done differently. And what is to come of us.<br>
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Weep, and wonder. But keep breathing. Your Lord may be dead, but God is not done.<br>
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<u>Credits</u>:<br>
Anonymous, photograph by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/User:Ethan_Doyle_White">Ethan Doyle White</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:15th_Century_Crucifix,_Santa_Maria_e_San_Donato_in_Murano.JPG">Wooden crucifix, 15th century</a> (edited). Affixed to a pillar in the Santa Maria e San Donato in Murano. Used by license <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en">(CC BY-SA 4.0)</a>.<br>Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-50054203462452361032019-04-17T22:23:00.000-04:002019-04-18T13:17:03.455-04:00Thursday of Holy Week - This is my body<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--ZVnjYPnjDc/XLaFZvy--yI/AAAAAAAAHRw/0tdCXAPbwV084gio_A5WH2l5Xdwgsxb7wCLcBGAs/s1600/Turkish-Food-Flat-Bread-Baked-Bread-Traditional-1654579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--ZVnjYPnjDc/XLaFZvy--yI/AAAAAAAAHRw/0tdCXAPbwV084gio_A5WH2l5Xdwgsxb7wCLcBGAs/s640/Turkish-Food-Flat-Bread-Baked-Bread-Traditional-1654579.jpg" width="480" height="330" data-original-width="681" data-original-height="468" /></a></div>
For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.<br>
<!-- Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be answerable for the body and blood of the Lord. Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For all who eat and drink without discerning the body, eat and drink judgment against themselves. For this reason many of you are weak and ill, and some have died. But if we judged ourselves, we would not be judged. But when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world.<br>
--><br>
<a href="http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=1+Corinthians+11:23-32&vnum=yes&version=nrsv">1 Corinthians 11:23-32</a><br>
<br>
There is so much sacred tradition around the "Last Supper," "Maundy/Holy Thursday," and the Christian communion meal. It may be difficult to see this event without the gloss of sanctity.<br>
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Jesus, fortunately, kept it simple. It was bread and wine shared among friends and colleagues. We don't need centuries of liturgical theology to understand that.<br>
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Bread and wine, body and blood. The coming days (and centuries) will make much of what they represent. The words, and the elements, take on meaning that may obscure our ability to remember the simplicity.<br>
<br>
The daily meal which nourishes the body for the next day of life. The love and fear in the room. <br>
<br>
I've heard people ask if Jesus drank wine. The Bible does not specifically say, nor does it seem to be a concern of Jesus.<br>
<br>
More importantly, he certainly served wine, in his last meal with his disciples.<br>
<br>
He passed the cup, as a symbol of his very self, and of that communion, that kinship which was part of their fellowship. When we remember him, we remember that he also served a vision of God's kingdom. Where bread is shared. Where justice rules. Where all are kin, sisters and brothers of a heavenly parent. Where all are healed. Where peace reigns and where love grows and grows, without end.<br>
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That was enough to carry him through the long night and day which was to come. With grace, we pray it is enough to carry us until that day when new life shines forth.<br>
<br>
<u>Credits</u>:<br>
Photographer (and baker) unknown. <a href="https://www.maxpixel.net/Turkish-Food-Flat-Bread-Baked-Bread-Traditional-1654579">Turkish Food Flat Bread Baked Bread Traditional</a>. Public domain <a href="https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0">(CC BY 1.0)</a>.<br><br>
* New Revised Standard Version Bible (NRSV), copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.<br>
Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-17689002381297764942019-04-16T21:16:00.002-04:002019-04-17T07:51:48.295-04:00Wednesday of Holy Week - Who will contend with me?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WHxittS_LrM/XLamQjEKn6I/AAAAAAAAHR8/diCgDDEnR0MtesSHP3d7tErtFS0AhJVsQCLcBGAs/s1600/Colijn_de_Coter_-_Christ_as_the_Man_of_Sorrows_-_WGA5453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WHxittS_LrM/XLamQjEKn6I/AAAAAAAAHR8/diCgDDEnR0MtesSHP3d7tErtFS0AhJVsQCLcBGAs/s400/Colijn_de_Coter_-_Christ_as_the_Man_of_Sorrows_-_WGA5453.jpg" width="270" height="400" data-original-width="608" data-original-height="900" /></a></div>
<i>"Who will contend with me? Let us stand up together. Who are my adversaries? Let them confront me"</i> <a href="http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Isaiah+50:4-9&vnum=yes&version=nrsv">Isaiah 50:8</a>.<br>
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It sounds like an ill-advised taunt. The adversaries are actually close by. They are visible and powerful.<br>
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For Jesus, the adversaries were the ones in charge of the current world order, the Powers That Be. The Empire, from Caesar, through the foot soldiers of the Roman legions, to the tax collectors. The local authorities, from Herod, through the Temple hierarchy, to the pious, who enforced religious rules without regard to God's justice-loving priorities. And the "ordinary folk." The friends who betray. The doubters, naysayers, and gossipers. The ones who speak right, but do wrong. Or the many who watch, yet do nothing at all.<br>
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Those were the adversaries Jesus faced. But the Powers That Be are still with us. They exist in every time and every land. You can name the ones you see today. They are the systems, and the people in them, who are in the grasp of sin, and who act contrary to the God-inspired vision of life and faithful, everlasting love.<br>
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When Jesus made his entry into Jerusalem, he went to the Temple and overturned the tables of the money changers. They sat at the intersection of Temple and Empire, where systems of power met, fueled by money. Messiahs were understood as threats, forces of chaos to the existing order. When Jesus made his assault on the money changers, he was unmistakably an enemy to those in power. He must have known this was a suicide mission, running headlong into the Temple stones and onto the Roman sword.<br>
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He wasn't even the Messiah people wanted. Many wanted the tables turned, all right, so <i>they</i> could be on top. <br>
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"I gave my back* to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting" (Isaiah 50:6). This is in the grip of the Adversaries. "Pulling out the beard" is a grave insult, a facial castration to humiliate a man by making him like a woman, just as rape is used for dominance and degradation. Humiliation is the goal, to make him an object of scorn, to gain submission from the victim if possible, but from all who witness this treatment.<br>
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The coming days of this Passion story work out very badly for this new king, as for most would-be messiahs. Seized, whipped, judged, stripped naked and tortured to death on a lonely hill outside the holy city. Abandoned by almost all his frightened friends, his dream of a new community dying with him. Abandoned even by his heavenly Father - forsaken.<br>
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Yet let the prophet have the last word for this day. "The Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word.... The Lord God helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced.... I know that I shall not be put to shame; he who vindicates me is near."<br>
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<u>Credits</u>:<br>
Colijn de Coter. <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Colijn_de_Coter_-_Christ_as_the_Man_of_Sorrows_-_WGA5453.jpg">Christ as the Man of Sorrows</a>, oil on oak panel, circa 1500. This is a faithful photographic reproduction of a two-dimensional, public domain work of art. This work is in the public domain in its country of origin and other countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 100 years or less.<br>
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* "I gave my <i>back</i> to those who struck me" can be read as showing disregard for the attacker by turning one's back, but can also be understood as an allusion to rape of the defeated.<br>
Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-7525693752746726182019-04-16T08:59:00.001-04:002019-04-16T09:52:05.299-04:00Tuesday of Holy Week - Like a sharp sword<i>"He made my mouth like a sharp sword, in the shadow of his hand he hid me; he made me a polished arrow, in his quiver he hid me away"</i> <a href="http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Isaiah+49:2&vnum=yes&version=nrsv">Isaiah 49:2</a><br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5d3KEtYVWaw/XLQPyEPqDeI/AAAAAAAAHRI/l5R_Gwbc4rAkhVhtpJeOfeHFhVtv3q4cgCLcBGAs/s1600/Kissaki2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5d3KEtYVWaw/XLQPyEPqDeI/AAAAAAAAHRI/l5R_Gwbc4rAkhVhtpJeOfeHFhVtv3q4cgCLcBGAs/s400/Kissaki2.jpg" width="600" height="233" data-original-width="1023" data-original-height="447" /></a></div><br>
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This is another text read as a messianic prophecy. I am interested in this "weaponized" Messiah, who is like a swift arrow, whose mouth is a sharp sword.<br>
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The prophet here speaks of the nation Israel in much the same terms as a commando. Armed with sharp weapons but undercover. There is a stealth quality to this mission. Is the Messiah coming like a thief in the night, unseen until his mission is in progress and unstoppable?<br>
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Sharp edges can reveal things. Swords in battle decide victory and defeat. A surgeon's knife divides flesh, that a tumor might be seen and excised. A word directed like a razor can cut what is false from what is true, divide wrong from right.<br>
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These are not cost-free actions. Swords in battle cost lives and limbs. Even healing surgery involves blood. Speaking straight can hurt, can provoke reactions, can cut apart people and relationships.<br>
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The word may catch you by surprise, but is not really meant to be secret. We hear the Lord "will give you [the Messiah, the messenger and the message] as a light to the nations."<br>
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When the truth comes out of the closet, some will rejoice, and others will abhor it. That does not make it less true or less right. The Lord who conceived to bring this word forth, has called for it to be proclaimed far and near. The word is from the Lord, thus it is wholly good. Like the life-giving Lord, the word should bring forth life. Would that those who hear it embrace it, honor it, and live by it. There is always hope.<br>
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<u>Credits</u>:<br>
<a href="https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utente:Giube">Giube</a>. <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kissaki.jpg">Kissaki</a>, edited.<br>Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-24050591606018896022019-04-15T21:31:00.000-04:002019-04-15T22:49:41.542-04:00Our Lady of ParisI have never been to Paris, nor is it a city which which has occupied my imagination. But its great Cathedral of Our Lady has been a cultural and spiritual center for 850 years. Built upon the site of a Roman temple, the place has been one of hope for even longer.<br>
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Some draw a firm line between stone and wood and human lives. We can be very thankful that no lives were lost in this terrible fire at Our Lady of Paris. Yet great buildings are more than their construction materials. They have their own lives, as the places which thousands and millions have inhabited.<br>
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In the case of a cathedral, centuries of prayer, of work, of alms giving, of serving food, of great arts, of holding the body of Christ make them more than dead stone. While the stones are not alive, many living souls would have sacrificed their lives to preserve this great place, a national symbol, a worldwide cultural treasure, and a place of living faith.<br>
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The scenes of the burning affected people worldwide. Some recall prior calamities, like 9/11. Many recall the importance of this great building in their lives. Scenes from the Paris streets showed people, standing and kneeling, singing hymns, as they watched the flames on the skyline. The old growth timbers may be only charcoal and ash, stones and vaults may have tumbled, treasures of art lost to the flames. But every part of this great cathedral still standing, preserved for the present and future, is cause for thanksgiving. We rejoice in the mighty work of firefighters and hope for the recovery of the one who was seriously injured.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GTSTm_I1T1A/XLUqSOC4M8I/AAAAAAAAHRY/tkAlVxlMCYE3YAvHSe6YkRLUfKXEdNGEwCLcBGAs/s1600/skynews-notre-dame-altar_4641049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GTSTm_I1T1A/XLUqSOC4M8I/AAAAAAAAHRY/tkAlVxlMCYE3YAvHSe6YkRLUfKXEdNGEwCLcBGAs/s640/skynews-notre-dame-altar_4641049.jpg" width="640" height="360" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="900" /></a></div><br>
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In Holy Week, Christians will recall Jesus' prophecy that the great stones of the temple would fall. Rebuild we will, yet all our human structures will one day be no more. Let us build on the kind of foundations that endure: justice, caring communities, kindness, welcome, thankfulness.<br>
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If our buildings are places where that happens, they will be treasured.<br>
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<u>Credits</u>:<br>
Sky News. <a href="https://news.sky.com/story/fire-breaks-out-at-notre-dame-cathedral-11694910">The altar of Notre-Dame following the fire</a>. 15 April 2019.<br>
Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-80176353496086868532019-04-15T00:27:00.002-04:002019-04-15T08:35:14.535-04:00Monday of Holy Week - Here is my servant<i>"My servant will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth..."</i> <a href="http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Isaiah+42:1-9&vnum=yes&version=nrsv">Isaiah 42:4</a><br>
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The suffering servant songs of the prophet Isaiah are seen as prophecies of, and ways to understand, the Messiah Jesus.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PXJ0hBAGpT0/XLQA-dkhokI/AAAAAAAAHQw/I-wBQZ-UhegjekAUMOCQcg4Cis_8B3jTwCLcBGAs/s1600/Enrique_Simonet_-_Flevit_super_illam_1892.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PXJ0hBAGpT0/XLQA-dkhokI/AAAAAAAAHQw/I-wBQZ-UhegjekAUMOCQcg4Cis_8B3jTwCLcBGAs/s400/Enrique_Simonet_-_Flevit_super_illam_1892.jpg" width="600" height="326" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="869" /></a></div><br>
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You can see the palms and perhaps hear the Hosannas in the background. Jesus looks over Jerusalem and weeps (Luke 19:41). He knows what is likely to come. By Friday afternoon, he will be crushed, and justice will appear to have been crucified.<br>
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Does the Empire always win? Will might always make its own right?<br>
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The question is still with us. We are still blind and lack the courage to break chains. Prisoners still being led into dungeons, and blindness is touted as right.<br>
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It is all the more troubling to us when this same servant song says that the hoped-for savior "will not cry or lift up his voice."<br>
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The prophet's song goes on to declare that new things are coming. That takes the eyes of faith. The crucifiers are still before us, blinding us to that kind of vision. Lord, be not silent. Open our eyes to injustice and suffering. Give us the gift of tears, that sharing the world's pain may wash away all that occludes our vision. Give us the grace to walk the servant-way, even to the cross.<br>
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<u>Credits</u>:<br>
Enrique_Simonet. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triumphal_entry_into_Jerusalem#/media/File:Enrique_Simonet_-_Flevit_super_illam_1892.jpg">Flevit super illam</a> (He wept over it), 1892. Museo del Prado. The author died in 1927, so this work is in the public domain in its country of origin and other countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 80 years or less.<br>
Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-66320987225064918472019-03-05T17:46:00.001-05:002019-03-05T17:46:17.962-05:00Praying the Psalms<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5QOZqS3daIY/XH7pb_g0w3I/AAAAAAAAHDU/T7KZ9xO1U2cWdaQ8kvNWWvqwO_ps3AOWgCLcBGAs/s1600/PrayingThePsalms%2Bpic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5QOZqS3daIY/XH7pb_g0w3I/AAAAAAAAHDU/T7KZ9xO1U2cWdaQ8kvNWWvqwO_ps3AOWgCLcBGAs/s400/PrayingThePsalms%2Bpic.jpg" width="400" height="285" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1140" /></a></div>It was eleven years ago that I started City Called Heaven. I began with lectionary reflections for Lent 2008.<br>
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Now we are at the threshold of another Lent, and I am happy to announce the launch of a new blog, <a href="http://www.prayingthepsalms.org">www.prayingthepsalms.org</a>.<br>
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It was in my early days as a chaplain that I started to rely on the Book of Psalms as a resource for prayer and faith. It speaks of God and <i>to</i> God in varied voices, and is distinctive in its ability to give voice to deep emotions: joy, despair, confidence, pain, rage, hope, pleas for rescue and complaints at injustice.<br>
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Prayingthepsalms.org will offer brief reflections on individual psalms, giving priority and focus to those used in the Revised Common Lectionary for the 3-year cycle of church readings. I do this in part to aid preachers, who tend to neglect the psalms as a resource for preaching. Yet the congregation reads a psalm each Sunday. And those words can speak directly to the heart.<br>
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Live today are 63 articles, representing just over half of the 104 psalms used in the Revised Common Lectionary. This includes all the psalms for the imminent season of Lent and for Holy Week and Easter. For church use, click on the "<a href="http://www.prayingthepsalms.org/p/blog-page_14.html">LECTIONARY PSALMS</a>" tab to find the psalms linked by liturgical date. "<a href="http://www.prayingthepsalms.org/p/psalm-index.html">PSALM INDEX</a>" gives a list of all psalms for which an article is written.<br>
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My hope is that you will find it helpful as a way to engage with the psalms themselves. These words, spoken and sung and prayed for thousands of years are not dry on the page. They are a testimony to the spiritual struggles of faithful ancestors, and signposts helping mark the way along our present journey.<br>
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May God sustain you always.<br>
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Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-39590248061538544982019-02-12T02:01:00.002-05:002019-02-13T00:26:46.541-05:00Which Lincoln to remember?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qZ1ZXHLONfc/XGJs-YD5UuI/AAAAAAAAG40/0_wA-kMOvYgO3B_k8NJAiyAy2c8Oh12egCLcBGAs/s1600/Lincoln%2B1860-1865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qZ1ZXHLONfc/XGJs-YD5UuI/AAAAAAAAG40/0_wA-kMOvYgO3B_k8NJAiyAy2c8Oh12egCLcBGAs/s640/Lincoln%2B1860-1865.jpg" width="640" height="293" data-original-width="828" data-original-height="379" /></a></div>
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Each February, historians are polled for their rankings of the best (and worst) Presidents. However you choose to rate their performance in office and place in history, Abraham Lincoln surely stands alone like none other, excepting that singular first President, George Washington.<br>
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While other Presidents steered the ship of state in times of war, none did so when the nation was at war with itself, citizen killing citizen at a rate of at least 180,000+ Americans per year over the four years of warfare.<small>[1]</small> While 16 times Presidents were elected with less than a majority of the popular vote, Lincoln had the second lowest vote percentage ever, and the lowest ever to win election by the electoral college.<small>[2]</small> While other Presidents were opposed and hated, no other's election triggered armed rebellion. Lincoln, and the events he presided over, led to the first Presidential assassination. And Lincoln was the only President bold enough to risk - and win - freeing America's slaves.<br>
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There is no easy or complete picture of Lincoln. He freed the slaves - but as a desperate measure when he concluded the Union could not be saved by maintaining them in bondage. He at times welcomed Negroes to the White House and consulted them - yet evidenced many of the racist prejudices of his time. <br>
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He held the Union together - yet it took his armies four years despite immense advantages in numbers of soldiers, arms, communications, transportation, money, and every resource imaginable except military leadership. He fought to preserve the Union, yet by any measure stretched the laws and Constitution under the "exigency" of rebellion. Personally kind, he authorized many executions, including the largest mass execution in U.S. history.<small>[3]</small><br>
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Which Lincoln do we remember?<br>
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This year it makes sense to remember the Lincoln, tougher than the rails he split, unaccountably wise in tolerating political stress, personally grieved, yet persisting in his belief that our democracy, even broken, was worth the price so many paid to try to put it back together.<br>
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The pictures above show Lincoln in 1860 before he assumed the Presidency, and five years later days before his murder. The Presidency takes its toll on all who occupy that office and the awesome responsibilities it carries. But probably none more than "Honest Abe." While the Confederate rebels sought to destroy the Union from without, his rivals did almost everything to rend the Union from within. Yet he persisted, in suffering, in humor, in canny maneuvering, in persuasion, and yes, in grace.<br>
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After Lincoln was given over to the ages, lesser ones struggled with, and ultimately failed much of his legacy. Yet we justly marvel that such a one rose up at such a time.<br>
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When Presidential leadership seems a distant memory, we should look again to that man from the prairie, whose vision saw beyond the struggle of his day.<br>
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"With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations."<small>[4]</small><br>
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Just because a person dies, their ideas and example need not. Just because those at the top are degraded and corrupt, does not mean that aspiration and inspiration are not living forces among us. We remember the complex Lincoln, who emerged from the most hopeless decades of American political life. I also look forward to the next President, who by the grace of God may walk in Abraham's shoes, and lead us to a new birth of freedom we do not yet see.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tHWcg8Au-nA/XGLmFA4fpQI/AAAAAAAAG5A/pMRffwFGSKUv1JoWUnvcFDOkY0yMNKSqACLcBGAs/s1600/lincoln_in_state_by_dillinger1934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tHWcg8Au-nA/XGLmFA4fpQI/AAAAAAAAG5A/pMRffwFGSKUv1JoWUnvcFDOkY0yMNKSqACLcBGAs/s640/lincoln_in_state_by_dillinger1934.jpg" width="640" height="370" data-original-width="935" data-original-height="541" /></a></div>
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[1] <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Civil_War">Wikipedia: American Civil War</a>. The total number of military deaths is credibly estimated from 618,000 to as high as 850,000, plus about 130,000 civilians, both free and slave.<br>
[2] <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_United_States_presidential_elections_by_popular_vote_margin">Wikipedia: U.S. Presidential popular vote</a>. In 1824, in the first election when the popular vote totals were recorded, John Quincy Adams came in second of four candidates, but was elected by the House of representatives after no candidate received a majority of electoral votes.<br>
[3] <a href="https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/lincoln-dakota">Lincoln ordered the execution by hanging of 38 Dakota Sioux</a>. A complicated story, Lincoln approved 39 executions, but pardoned 264.<br>
[4] A. Lincoln. <a href="https://www.bartleby.com/124/pres32.html">Second Inaugural Address</a>, March 4, 1865 (as the end of the fighting drew near, 42 days before his death).<br>
Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-102148189681792692019-01-21T20:36:00.001-05:002019-01-22T23:08:11.535-05:00A letter to those urging patience with injusticeI was thrilled to hear Martin King's Letter from a Birmingham Jail read today on the radio. If the Church ever decides to add to the New Testament, this is my #1 nomination.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jFJW6uWqG0o/XEZy9WPlQVI/AAAAAAAAG30/A5fp3GXguRAPplsbEXw6gN8O3GN92Q3_QCLcBGAs/s1600/presentationThumbnail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jFJW6uWqG0o/XEZy9WPlQVI/AAAAAAAAG30/A5fp3GXguRAPplsbEXw6gN8O3GN92Q3_QCLcBGAs/s320/presentationThumbnail.jpg" width="320" height="202" data-original-width="614" data-original-height="387" /></a></div>Today we justly see King as a hero, but that was not how most saw him at the time. He wrote the letter on scrap paper, smuggled it out of jail, and the NY Times turned it down for publication. In the letter, King notes his stand in the prophetic tradition, but also his status as a "n-----r" and "boy" (and implicitly as convict).<br>
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"At first I was rather disappointed that fellow clergymen would see my nonviolent efforts as those of an extremist.... But as I continued to think about the matter, I gradually gained a bit of satisfaction from being considered an extremist. Was not Jesus an extremist in love? -- 'Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you.' Was not Amos an extremist for justice? -- 'Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream....' Was not Abraham Lincoln an extremist? -- 'This nation cannot survive half slave and half free....'<br>
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"So the question is not whether we will be extremist, but what kind of extremists we will be? Will we be extremists for hate, or will we be extremists for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice, or will we be extremists for the cause of justice?"<br>
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A modern reading from the <a href="https://youtu.be/__cT397uOak">Kirwan Institute</a>
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In his own voice: <a href="https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/letter-birmingham-jail">King audio, and facsimile letter to the Birmingham clergy</a><br>Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-8550399060943963132018-12-24T16:15:00.000-05:002018-12-25T00:57:37.936-05:00A decree went out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rOg_C_0GmG4/XCBzzwiKW_I/AAAAAAAAG1Y/FqKS2A1TPPwSg8z4ACxVEwQTqd3qOzI9gCLcBGAs/s1600/MW-GI194_carava_20180429205315_ZH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rOg_C_0GmG4/XCBzzwiKW_I/AAAAAAAAG1Y/FqKS2A1TPPwSg8z4ACxVEwQTqd3qOzI9gCLcBGAs/s320/MW-GI194_carava_20180429205315_ZH.jpg" width="384" height="216" data-original-width="890" data-original-height="501" /></a></div>In those days a decree went out from President Trump - no wait, it was Emperor Augustus. Well, there's always someone who thinks they're on top... Anyway, a decree went out that all the world should be registered. Because the empire needs everyone to have papers. Without papers, you can't be properly tracked, can't be properly taxed, can't be properly subject to those trying to run the show.<br>
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This was the first registration and was taken while Bashar al-Assad was governor of Syria. (Or was it Quirinius? So many governors...) All went to their own towns to be registered. Maybe that's where the original papers were. Or maybe it's because once you're a Judean, always a Judean, once a Mexican, always a Mexican. Once a Kurd, an Eritrean, a Cambodian, a Yemeni... you get the idea. The Authorities said you'd <i>better</i> get the idea.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-emz6kGPWfds/XCFQ3CCumGI/AAAAAAAAG2M/ixfpl9oGmw4NOrbenI1e0x_SshNlENGqQCLcBGAs/s1600/articulos-226917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-emz6kGPWfds/XCFQ3CCumGI/AAAAAAAAG2M/ixfpl9oGmw4NOrbenI1e0x_SshNlENGqQCLcBGAs/s320/articulos-226917.jpg" width="320" height="193" data-original-width="631" data-original-height="381" /></a></div>Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the Land of Promise. The border was closed. There was a waiting list for the refugee camp. The cheapest motel wouldn't take their money <small><small>(<a href="http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Luke+2:1-20&vnum=yes&version=nrsv">Luke 2:1-7</a>, adapted)</small></small>.<br>
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The old story is still familiar, and not because we heard it in church, but because it is still in the news. A decree went out. "Muslims not welcome. If you speak Spanish, or an indigenous tongue, you're not welcome. Shithole country - not welcome. Poor - not welcome. You'll never be welcome. Whatever horror you are fleeing - not our problem and you are NOT WELCOME."<br>
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The good news is that there is another decree, a more righteous, more just, more hopeful, more glorious, more enduring, and far more authoritative decree.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-55tblx2nH-A/XCB2MxtudfI/AAAAAAAAG1s/WIr_waROJGQJiE2Vr9AfQJWEpy0VhiI4gCLcBGAs/s1600/angel_shepherds_full.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-55tblx2nH-A/XCB2MxtudfI/AAAAAAAAG1s/WIr_waROJGQJiE2Vr9AfQJWEpy0VhiI4gCLcBGAs/s320/angel_shepherds_full.jpeg" width="320" height="241" data-original-width="550" data-original-height="415" /></a></div>In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” <small>(<a href="http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Luke+2:1-20&vnum=yes&version=nrsv">Luke 2:8-14</a>)</small><br>
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The Emperor, The President, the Governor, the Senate will not even listen to those poorer than poor, dirty, lonely shepherds, much less believe them.<br>
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But God's decree is that those kingdoms always fall. There is never a moment where God does not stand with the lowly, and stand against the oppressors. <b>"Fear not! I am bringing you good news of <u>great</u> <u>joy</u>!"</b> Believe in that little baby if you want. But whatever you do, believe in that word of light shining in the darkness. Evil cannot win. Cruelty is a dead end. And while the powerful are plotting, trapped in their gold-plated corruption, love is <b><i>always</i></b> being born into the world.<br>
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<u>Postscript</u>:<br>
Lest you think this story is all about God and angels, pay attention to what happened next. Those poor outcast shepherds went to see for themselves. They found the heavenly message to be true. They told the story to any who would listen, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. God's hope is better rooted in the fields and the barrios than in palaces and resorts. True then, true this day.<br>
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<u>Photos</u> (credits forthcomiing):<br>
A "caravan" of almost 200 Central American migrants approaches the U.S. border at Tijuana, Mexico, <a href="http://www.markettamer.com/blog/the-wall-street-journal-migrant-caravan-finally-reaches-u-s-border-seeking-asylum">April, 2018</a>.<br>
Christmas in refugee camp near Erbil, Iraq, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/dec/25/christmas-message-pope-francis-makes-phone-call-to-refugees-fleeing-isis">2014</a>.<br>
<a href="https://theconservativetreehouse.com/2011/12/24/christmas-can-also-be-lonely">Angelic appearance to shepherds</a>.<br>
<br>Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-65239613812554441882018-12-21T00:48:00.001-05:002018-12-21T00:51:19.744-05:00The night is long, but the light still shines<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ByJtOzoNA6M/XBx9qc0Y0vI/AAAAAAAAGz0/YgH_phznSz4Ps1bqCgpj1tyfyI4dgBm7wCLcBGAs/s1600/2018-12-19%2B20.10.15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ByJtOzoNA6M/XBx9qc0Y0vI/AAAAAAAAGz0/YgH_phznSz4Ps1bqCgpj1tyfyI4dgBm7wCLcBGAs/s320/2018-12-19%2B20.10.15.jpg" width="320" height="320" data-original-width="1236" data-original-height="1236" /></a></div>Light in the darkness, a road through a wasteland, welcome in a foreign land, shelter in a storm. Pick your image. There is never a time and place where we cannot use hope, and grace, comfort and assurance.<br>
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Last week it was with people turning grief into action. Tuesday night it was in jail. Wednesday night it was in church. Thursday it was at a lunch table. Someday soon it could be at a manger.<br>
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Where there is love, help us to find it. Teach us to know that a shadow is only a shadow, because the light of eternal goodness shines behind the object of our fears.<br>
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May these days be holy for you.<br>
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<u>Photo</u>:<br>
Candlelighting, Blue Christmas service, November 19, 2018, Christ Our Saviour Lutheran Church, Jersey City.<br>
Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185729761630653103.post-47413848788727460162018-09-11T01:00:00.000-04:002018-09-11T01:11:13.317-04:00Remembering still<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8ouIlIiVyps/W5c4nOL0U7I/AAAAAAAAGsE/AvFKDHhbMsogCdgZINkfg5EvIF0z_wP4wCLcBGAs/s1600/nyc_newyorkcity_ny_newyork_manhattan_worldtradecenter_911_wtc-534505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8ouIlIiVyps/W5c4nOL0U7I/AAAAAAAAGsE/AvFKDHhbMsogCdgZINkfg5EvIF0z_wP4wCLcBGAs/s400/nyc_newyorkcity_ny_newyork_manhattan_worldtradecenter_911_wtc-534505.jpg" width="600" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="800" /></a></div>
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Seventeen years later, we are still in the business of remembering. And there is so much to remember.<br>
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The beautiful clear sky. The terror streaking out of the skies. The death and destruction, the anguished waiting. The bravery and compassion multiplied by thousands and millions as people strove to help their neighbors. And also the way the evil of a few escalated into seventeen years of war with no end in sight.<br>
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We remember the ones who died that day. The photo above (taken some years after 2001) shows an altar at St. Paul's Chapel, shining forth the faces of some of those beloved people. Their family and friends still know their loss personally. Like Danny Correa, the 25 year old man looking out from the lower left of the picture. "I dance in the clouds and soak in the haze," he emailed a friend, soon after he started working near the top of the North Tower. He was very happy to get that job, which allowed him to provide for his daughter, complete his bachelor's degree in accounting (with honors), and support participation in his basement rock band. When he was three years old, his father Helman brought him and the rest of his family from Columbia to make a better life in America. From the moment the first plane hit, Danny had no chance at the good, decent life which should have been ahead of him.<br>
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Each life is precious. When we see how quickly and often how unjustly life can end, we are called to remember what is most important.<br>
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If we remember anything besides the people, it should be the responsibilities which 9/11, Afghanistan, Iraq, Guantanamo, and all the other sites of the "global war on terror" evoke from us. The paired duties to enjoy the gift of life, and to build a world where others can do the same.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uBxUIjuBxKQ/W5dOY6kz6MI/AAAAAAAAGsU/CtGdy_gbj7MDMwBIyILcxhdTRP5UI5fKACLcBGAs/s1600/FEMA_-_4049_-_Photograph_by_Michael_Rieger_taken_on_09-21-2001_in_New_York.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uBxUIjuBxKQ/W5dOY6kz6MI/AAAAAAAAGsU/CtGdy_gbj7MDMwBIyILcxhdTRP5UI5fKACLcBGAs/s400/FEMA_-_4049_-_Photograph_by_Michael_Rieger_taken_on_09-21-2001_in_New_York.jpg" width="400" height="300" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1200" /></a></div><br>
<u>Credits</u>:<br>
<a href="https://pxhere.com/en/photo/534505">St. Paul's altar</a>, <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0">(CC BY 2.0)</a>.<br>
Michael Rieger, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artwork_damaged_or_destroyed_in_the_September_11_attacks#/media/File:FEMA_-_4049_-_Photograph_by_Michael_Rieger_taken_on_09-21-2001_in_New_York.jpg"> Rescue crews work to clear debris from the site of the World Trade Center</a>, New York, NY, September 21, 2001. FEMA Photo Library, public domain.<br>Paul Bellan-Boyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535442342075593259noreply@blogger.com0