Go Tell It On The Mountain!

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Twas In the Moon of Wintertime

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Advent Worship

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* ~ * ~ * ~ *

As snowflakes fall
in the freedom of an endless sky—so I will live today.
Celebrating the intricate significance of lives
dancing in silent beauty
to the presence of God with us.

- Cari Spears

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Winter Solstice Liturgy

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*

Don Austin

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St. Anne's is sad to announce that long-time member, Don Austin, passed away on December 11th. He was surrounded by family and died peacefully.


The funeral service will be held at St. Anne's on the morning of Saturday, December 19, time TBA. Obituary notice will appear in Sunday's Pioneer Press.


Rest eternal grant to Don, O Lord, and let light perpetual shine upon him. May his soul, and the souls of all the departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

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How to kneel

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Unos, dos, tres, catorce!

Lights go down it's dark
The jungle is your head
Can't rule your heart
A feeling so much
Stronger than a thought
Your eyes are wide and though
Your soul it can't be bought
Your mind can wander

Hello hello
(Hola)
I'm at a place called Vertigo
(Donde esta?)
It's everything I wish I didn't know
Except you give me something
I can feel, feel





The night is full of holes
As bullets rip the sky
Of ink with gold
They twinkle as the
Boys play rock and roll
They know that they can't dance
At least they know

I can't stand the beats
I'm asking for the cheque
The girl with crimson nails
Has Jesus 'round her neck
Swinging to the music
Swinging to the music

Hello hello
(Hola)
I'm at a place called Vertigo
(Donde esta?)
It's everything I wish I didn't know
But you give me something
I can feel, feel

All of this, all of this can be yours
All of this, all of this can be yours
All of this, all of this can be yours
Just give me what I want
And no one gets hurt

Hello hello
(Hola)
We're at a place called Vertigo
(Donde esta?)
Lights go down and all I know
Is that you give me something

I can feel your love teaching me how
Your love is teaching me how
How to kneel, kneel

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In the Darkness of Advent

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Longing for the Hush

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Longing for the Hush


Earlier and earlier stores press their limits
as traditional holiday music, like Gene Autry and Bing
drift through tinny sounding speakers.
Retailers seek the blackest of black ink for their bottom line—
"Ah, the joyous season of giving!"

In the mist of it all,
cynicism crept in and almost stole from me
the revered moments of hushed, silent bliss
when my heart and God’s connect in this solemn season,
immersed in salvation through the hope of a blanketed savior child.

- Cari Spears


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Are you, too, longing for the hush?

In this busy time of year, perhaps the best gift the church can offer is quiet, slower-paced space and time to rest and reflect. Each Wednesday of Advent, St. Anne's sanctuary will be available as a quiet space for meditation and prayer, from 5:00-9:00 PM beginning December 2. Stop in any time, stay for as long as you'd like. All are welcome.

God Would Kneel Down

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GOD WOULD KNEEL DOWN

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I think God might be a little prejudiced.

For once He asked me to join Him on a walk through this world,

and we gazed into every heart on this earth,
and I noticed He lingered a bit longer

before any face that was weeping,

and before any eyes that were laughing.

And sometimes when we passed
a soul in worship

God too would kneel down.

I have come to learn:
God
adores
His
creation.


~*~

- St. Francis of Assisi

(as translated by Daniel Ladinsky)

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We Are Standing On Holy Ground

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Blessing of the Animals

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God bless the animals.

Let us remember to give thanks for all of the significant animals in our lives, past and present, and for the wonderful lessons we learn from all of your wondrous creatures.

Give us, God, the gentleness of the rabbit,
the working ability of the beaver, the courage of the lion,
the cunning of the fox,
the bravery of the tiger
and the fortitude and resiliency of the coyote.

May we always have the lovely family life of the wolf,
whose members care for one another with sincere devotion.

Grant us the common sense of the horse,
the strength of the ox
and especially, God,
we ask for the humor, comedy and playfulness
of the sea otters and the squirrels.

Bless us each with the mastery of good grooming and relaxation of our cats
and with the loyalty and devotion of our dogs.

Best of all, God, fill us with the sheer joy of the songbirds at dawn,
heralding a new day and forgetting the past.


Help us to awaken to and learn from their wisdom
and their sweetness,
their loyalty
and particularly
their seeming inability to judge human beings unkindly.

Amen.

- by The Rev. Lauren McLaughlin
from the book Blessing the Animals: Prayers and Ceremonies to Celebrate God’s Creatures, Wild and Tame. Edited by Lynn L. Caruso

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Church Bulletin Slip Ups

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Enjoy!

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These sentences actually appeared in a church bulletin or were announced in a church service:


Announcement in the church bulletin for a National Prayer and Fasting Conference. "The cost for attending the Prayer and Fasting Conference includes meals."

Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.

Miss Charlene Mason sang "I will not pass this way again" giving obvious pleasure to the congregation.

"Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It's a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Don't forget to bring your husbands."

The peacemaking meeting scheduled for today has been canceled due to a conflict.

Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our community.

The sermon this morning: "Jesus Walks on the Water." The sermon tonight: "Searching for Jesus."

Next Thursday there will be tryouts for the choir. They need all the help they can get.

The Rector will preach his farewell message after which the choir will sing "Break Forth into Joy."

Smile at someone who is hard to love. Say "hell" to someone who doesn't care much about you.

Don't let worry kill you off. Let the Church help.

Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.

At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What is Hell?" Come early and listen to our choir practice.

Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles, and other items to be recycled. Proceeds will be used to cripple children.

For those of you who have children and don't know it, we have a nursery downstairs.

The church will host an evening of fine dining, superb entertainment, and gracious hostility.

Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00 PM.-prayer and medication to follow.

The ladies of the Church have cast off clothing of every kind. They may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon.

Ladies Bible Study will be held Thursday morning at 10. All ladies are invited to lunch in the Fellowship Hall after the B.S. is done.

Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian Church. Please use large double door at the side entrance.

The Associate Minister unveiled the church's new tithing campaign slogan last Sunday: "I Upped My Pledge - Up Yours.

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St. Anne's Ministry Fair - September 20th

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Butterflies

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world

the master calls a butterfly.

Richard Bach

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I Am

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Song of Amergin

I am the wind that blows across the sea;
I am the wave of the deep;
I am the roar of the ocean;
I am the stag of seven battles;

I am the hawk on the cliff;
I am a ray of sunlight;
I am the greenest of plants;
I am a wild boar;
I am a salmon in the river;

I am a lake on the plain;
I am the word of knowledge;
I am the point of a spear;
I am the lure beyond the ends of the earth;
I am the god who put fire in your head;





Who made the trails through stone mountains;
Who knows the age of the moon;
Who knows where the setting sun rests.

*

Come All You Sailors, Lovers, Seekers...

*
COME ALL YOU SAILORS

Come all you sailors
Sail upon my sea
Swim in these salty waters
Cleanse the wounds that run so deep

Come all you lovers
Give your hearts to me
Come with your broken dreams
and your ruined fancies



Come all you seekers
Realize that you can see
Find within your deepest longing
That all you need is me

- The Wailin' Jennys

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Bread of Life

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Be gentle when you touch bread.

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Let it not lie uncared for, unwanted.

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So often bread is taken for granted.

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There is so much beauty in bread;

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beauty of sun and soil,

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beauty of patient toil,

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winds and rains have caressed it,

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Christ often blessed it.

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Be gentle when you touch bread.

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Celtic prayer

Come With Me

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The Sunflowers
by Mary Oliver


Come with me
into the field of sunflowers.
Their faces are burnished disks,
their dry spines creak like ship masts,
their green leaves,
so heavy and many,
fill all day with the sticky sugars of the sun.

Come with me
to visit the sunflowers,
they are shy but want to be friends;
they have wonderful stories
of when they were young -
the important weather, the wandering crows.

Don't be afraid
to ask them questions!

Their bright faces, which follow the sun,
will listen, and all
those rows of seeds -
each one a new life! hope for a deeper acquaintance;
each of them, though it stands
in a crowd of many,
like a separate universe, is lonely, the long work
of turning their lives
into a celebration
is not easy.

Come and let us talk with those modest faces,
the simple garments of leaves,
the coarse roots in the earth
so uprightly burning.

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Chicory

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Chicory

Roadside chicory with economy of leaves
splurged all to color,
blue, blue, lavender-blue blue,
flat faced, fringed blue on thin stems,
redeeming the ditches


- Arline Fobes

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Gone To The Fields To Be Lovely

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Camas Lilies

Consider the lilies of the field,
the blue banks of camas opening
into acres of sky along the road.

Would the longing to lie down
and be washed by that beauty
abate if you knew their usefulness,
how the natives ground bulbs
for flour, how the settler’s hogs
uprooted them, grunting in gleeful
oblivion as the flowers fell?

And you—what of your rushed and
useful life? Imagine setting it all down—
papers, plans, appointments, everything,
leaving only a note: “Gone to the fields
to be lovely. Be back when I’m through
with blooming.”

Even now, unneeded and uneaten,
the camas lilies gaze out above the grass
from their tender blue eyes.

Even in sleep your life will shine.
Make no mistake.
Of course, your work will always matter.
Yet Solomon in all his glory
was not arrayed like one of these.

-Lynn Ungar from What We Share

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Hands

Hands

If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we're all OK
And not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these
I won't be made useless
I won't be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
That lights the darkness most fear
My hands are small, I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken

Poverty stole your golden shoes
It didn't steal your laughter
And heartache came to visit me
But I knew it wasn't ever after
We'll fight, not out of spite
For someone must stand up for what's right
'Cause where there's a man who has no voice
There ours shall go singing
My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
I am never broken

In the end only kindness matters
In the end only kindness matters
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray

My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
We are never broken
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's mind
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's heart
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's eyes
We are God's hands
We are God's hands

- Jewel

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Water

*

Your eye has not strength enough
to gaze at the burning sun,
but you can see its burning light
by watching its reflection
mirrored in the water

If you pierce the heart of a single drop of water,
from it will flow a hundred clear oceans;
heaven is concealed in the pupil of an eye;
the core at the center of the heart is small,

yet the Sacred will enter there


- Mahmud Shabistari

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Outdoor Worship at St. Anne's: YOU are invited!

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Thank You, I'll Be Here All Week...

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How many Christians does it take to change a light bulb?

Charismatics: Only one. Hands already in the air.

Pentecostals: Ten. One to change the bulb, and nine to pray against the spirit of darkness.

Presbyterians: None. Lights will go on and off at predestined times.

Roman Catholic: None. Candles only.

Baptists: At least 15. One to change the light bulb, and three committees to approve the change and decide who brings the potato salad.

Episcopalians: Three. One to call the electrician, one to mix the drinks and one to talk about how much better the old one was.

Methodists: Undetermined. Whether your light is bright, dull, or completely out, you are loved. You can be a light bulb, turnip bulb, or tulip bulb. Church wide lighting service is planned for Sunday. Bring bulb of your choice and a covered dish.

Nazarene: Six. One woman to replace the bulb while five men review church lighting policy.

Lutherans: None. Lutherans don't believe in change.

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A Signpost

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The opposite of love is not hate but fear. If we are to broaden our vision and enlarge our hearts, we must allow risk to enter our lives, permit doubt to walk hand in hand with belief. It is a mistake to sharpen our minds by narrowing them. It is a mistake to look at the Bible to close a discussion -- the Bible seeks to open one....

The Bible is no oracle to be consulted for specific advice on specific problems; rather, it is a wellspring of wisdom about the ambiguity, inevitability, and the insolubility of the human situation. It sings praises to God who...provides minimum protection but maximum support....

Finally, the Bible is a signpost, not a hitching post. It points beyond itself, saying "Pay attention to God, not me." And if, as the Bible claims, "God is love, and she who abides in loves abides in God, and God abides in her," then revelation is in the relationship. In all Scripture there is no injunction more fundamental than that contained in these simple words: "Love one another."

-- William Sloan Coffin

The Courage to Love


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We Remember

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A Memorial Day Prayer

Eternal God,
Creator of years, of centuries,
Lord of whatever is beyond time,
Maker of all species and master of all history --
How shall we speak to you
from our smallness and inconsequence?
Except that you have called us to worship you
in spirit and in truth;
You have dignified us with loves and loyalties;
You have lifted us up with your lovingkindnesses.
Therefore we are bold to come before you without groveling
[though we sometimes feel that low]
and without fear
[though we are often anxious].
We sing with spirit and pray with courage
because you have dignified us;
You have redeemed us from the aimlessness
of things' going meaninglessly well.
God, lift the hearts of those
for whom this holiday is not just diversion,
but painful memory and continued deprivation.
Bless those whose dear ones have died
needlessly, wastefully [as it seems]
in accident or misadventure.
We remember with compassion those who have died
serving their countries
in the futility of combat.
There is none of us but must come to bereavement and separation,
when all the answers we are offered
fail the question death asks of each of us.
We believe that you will provide for us
as others have been provided with the fulfillment of
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."

- Rev. Dick Kozelka (ret)
First Congregational Church of Minnesota
Minneapolis, MN



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Light Everywhere

*

a sacred time
in a sacred space
at a sacred hour

an open heart

a place
so thin

and light rose from within

golden and sure
rising, then rushing


the open heart filled

and burst

and opened some more

until the heart no longer existed


because it
wasn’t meant to contain
wasn’t meant to hold

the heart was just a thin place, too

a passageway
through which light flew free

into the world

golden and sure
rising, then soaring

up

and

out

and everywhere

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A visit from the Presiding Bishop

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Mother's Day

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The Lanyard

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

- Billy Collins


Happy Mother's Day to all those who care and comfort and ache and celebrate with the love of a mother.

One Ohana

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Congratulations Bailey, Emily, Evan, Kathryn!

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SERMON
EASTER 3B, APRIL 26, 2009


Picture this: An incredibly cute 10-year-old boy, standing in front of his house at 442 White Bear Avenue in St. Paul, on a warm spring night in 1957. Dressed in dark blue pants, white shirt, and red tie, holding a brand new missal with gold edges, and looking amazingly pious, all the while trying desperately to remember the twelve fruits and the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit which he and all the other fifth graders were supposed to have memorized a long time ago.

It was confirmation night at St. Pascal’s Catholic Church and in a short time, the incredibly cute 10-year-old boy, along with more than 100 other kids, would be presented to Bishop Leonard P. Cowley for anointing, the laying on of hands, and some serious questions about gifts, and fruits, and virtues. The incredibly cute 10-year-old boy was really hoping for the virtues question since there were only three of these to remember.

I mention this for two reasons: First, I came across my confirmation picture a few weeks ago, as Roxie and I continue the process of sorting, saving, and throwing thirty-four years worth of stuff; and second, four young people from our congregation were confirmed yesterday at St. Mark’s Cathedral-- Emily Davis, Evan Furniss, Kathryn Rooney, and Bailey Parsons—and so I’ve been thinking about Confirmation a lot lately.

The Book of Common Prayer says: “In the course of their Christian development, those baptized at an early age are expected, when they are ready and have been duly prepared, to make a mature public affirmation of their faith and responsibilities of their Baptism, and to receive the laying on of hands by the bishop.”

I can tell you this about Emily, Evan, Kathryn, and Bailey: Each of them was baptized at an early age, each of them has been duly prepared, at least in the sense that they came to confirmation class more than thirty times, each of them told me they felt ready to be confirmed, and each of them did indeed receive the laying on of hands by the bishop yesterday at St. Mark’s Cathedral.

But now comes the hard part. Because the other thing each of them did yesterday was this: They each made a “mature public affirmation of their faith and the responsibilities of their baptism.”

They each promised to continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of the bread and in the prayers; to persevere in resisting evil, and to repent and return to the Lord whenever they fall into sin; to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ; to seek and serve Christ in all persons, and to love their neighbor as themselves; to strive for justice and peace among all people, and to respect the dignity of every human being.

Wow! That’s some heavy-duty stuff!

We talked a lot about these Baptismal Covenant Promises in class, we talked about practical ways to fulfill these promises, and I always had to admit that that last one is the most difficult one for me: “to respect the dignity of every human being.”

What about the person who doesn’t respect me? What about the person who I disagree with politically, socially, or theologically? What about the postal clerk at the local branch post office who saw the St. Anne’s Episcopal Church return address on a letter I was trying to mail, and told me, in front of a long line of people, that he hoped I was aware that all of us Episcopalians are sinners because of that gay bishop?

Definitely not easy to respect the dignity of that guy. But that’s exactly what Emily, Evan, Kathryn, and Bailey promised to do yesterday. And that’s exactly what each of has committed ourselves to do as baptized members of the Family of God.

And we are reminded of it every time we witness a baptism or a confirmation, every time we attend the Great Vigil of Easter, and every year on the First Sunday after the Epiphany—the Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord—when we repeat our Baptismal Covenant Promises.

Our four young people who were confirmed yesterday did not choose to become adopted children of God. They did not choose to have promises made on their behalf, to have water poured on them, to “be sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever.” They didn’t choose any of this.

For them, baptism was a gift, a gift that their parents and godparents desired that they have, and the church bestowed upon them.

What they did choose, however, was to be confirmed yesterday. To stand and to publicly affirm their faith and their commitment to the responsibilities of their baptism. They chose to say for themselves what had been said for them when they were infants. They chose to state their beliefs using the words of the Apostles’ Creed, and to publicly declare their intention to strive to faithfully live their lives in accordance with their Baptismal Covenant Promises.

They did all of this and acknowledged what we all know to be true—we cannot do any of this on our own. And that’s why each of the Baptismal Covenant Promises ends with these words: “I will, with God’s help.”

I will continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers---with God’s help.

I will persevere in resisting evil---with God’s help.

I will proclaim the Good News of God in Christ, I will seek and serve Christ in all persons, I will strive for justice and peace among all people, I will respect the dignity of every human being---with God’s help.

I’m not a person who is easily provoked, but I have to be honest and admit that there were all kinds of things I would’ve liked to have said to that postal worker I mentioned earlier. Fortunately, somehow, with God’s help I think, I was able to smile and tell him to have a good day.

“I will, with God’s help, respect the dignity of every human being.”

Emily, Evan, Kathryn, and Bailey, even though you’ve already been confirmed, today’s Gospel reading from Luke suggests three more things I’d like to tell you.

“While the disciples were telling how they had seen Jesus risen from the dead, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, ‘Peace be with you.’” (Luke 24:36)

My hope is that St. Anne’s will always be for you a place of peace. A place where you feel welcomed, respected, and loved. A place where you feel the presence of God, the love of God, and the peace of God. A place that calls out to you to join in and participate. A place that inspires you to be “Christ’s loving arms in the world, by spreading the Good News of Jesus Christ to all people.”

“Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Why are you frightened, and who do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself.’” (Luke 24:38-39)

My hope is that St. Anne’s will always be for you a place that you can come to when you are frightened and when you have doubts. A safe place where you can feel free to express your fears and share your doubts. A place where you know that you will always be listened to and taken seriously. A place that will encourage you to ask as many questions as you want, even though we probably won’t have all the answers.

“Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Have you anything here to eat?’ They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate in their presence.” (Luke 24:41-43)

My hope is that St. Anne’s will always be for you a place to be fed and nourished. A place where you feel welcome to come on any Sunday and celebrate Eucharist with us, because, as Lydia reminds us every week, “this is Christ’s table, and he invites everyone.” A place where the bread and wine of Holy Communion will be offered to you as a reminder of Christ’s sacrifice for us. A place where you will be sent out to speak words of hope and healing, and to perform deeds of compassion and courage, to a troubled and hurting world.

Okay, back to the incredibly cute 10-year-old boy. I’m happy to report that he was confirmed without incident. The bishop didn’t ask him any questions. And unfortunately, the seven gifts and the twelve fruits of the Holy Spirit continue to be NOT memorized.

To our four newly confirmed young people, I have good news and bad news.

The good news is you have been confirmed. You came to class over thirty times, you met with an adult mentor, you answered all the questions, and you filled in all the blanks. You did it! Congratulations!

The bad news is, IT’S STILL NOT OVER! God is not finished with you yet. But his really isn’t bad news, because God isn’t finished with any of us yet. God continues to be active in our world today. God continues to speak to us in the people and events of our daily lives. And continues to call us to go and do.

Finally, to you newly confirmed members of the St. Anne’s family, and to all of you, I want to offer this Gerhard Frost poem, from his book Kept Moments. It’s called “A Life to Share.”


A LIFE TO SHARE
by Gerhard Frost

He is my friend,
warm, magnanimous, and wise.
I heard him speak to students,
and this is what he said:

Give yourself to God in trust
and to your neighbor in love.
Remember, contempt for persons
besets us all. Servanthood centers
in grace and in our fellow humans.
We have a way of life to share;
if we’re too busy for people,
we’re busier than God.

Wherever you live, be sure to unpack;
no place on God’s great earth
is just a stepping-stone.
People, profound and complex,
are always there, great as saints
and great as sinners. Be ready to forgive
and be forgiven.

Avoid the tyranny of swift success,
recalling that where persons are at stake
many things must just be lived with in love
and left undone,
awaiting the miracle of God.

*

Amen

*

- The Rev. Pat Markie

I Will Just Say This

*

I WILL JUST SAY THIS


We
bloomed in Spring.

Our bodies
are the leaves of God.

The apparent seasons of life and death
our eyes can suffer;

but our souls, dear,
I will just say this forthright:

they are God Himself.


- Daniel Ladinsky

*

Morning Has Broken

The Seven Last Words

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The Seven Last Words

1
The story of the end, of the last word
of the end, when told, is a story that never ends.
We tell it and retell it — one word, then another
until it seems that no last word is possible,
that none would be bearable. Thus, when the hero
of the story says to himself, as to someone far away,
‘Forgive them, for they know not what they do,’
we may feel that he is pleading for us, that we are
the secret life of the story and, as long as his plea
is not answered, we shall be spared. So the story
continues. So we continue. And the end, once more,
becomes the next, and the next after that.


2
There is an island in the dark, a dreamt-of place
where the muttering wind shifts over the white lawns
and riffles the leaves of trees, the high trees
that are streaked with gold and line the walkways there;
and those already arrived are happy to be the silken
remains of something they were but cannot recall;
they move to the sound of stars, which is also imagined,
but who cares about that; the polished columns they see
may be no more than shafts of sunlight, but for those
who live on and on in the radiance of their remains
this is of little importance. There is an island
in the dark and you will be there, I promise you, you
shall be with me in paradise, in the single season of being,
in the place of forever, you shall find yourself. And there
the leaves will turn and never fall, there the wind
will sing and be your voice as if for the first time.


3
Someday some one will write a story set
in a place called The Skull, and it will tell,
among other things, of a parting between mother
and son, of how she wandered off, of how he vanished
in air. But before that happens, it will describe
how their faces shone with a feeble light and how
the son was moved to say, ‘Woman, look at your son,’
then to a friend nearby, ‘Son, look at your mother.’
At which point the writer will put down his pen
and imagine that while those words were spoken
something else happened, something unusual like
a purpose revealed, a secret exchanged, a truth
to which they, the mother and son, would be bound,
but what it was no one would know. Not even the writer.


4
These are the days when the sky is filled with
the odor of lilac, when darkness becomes desire,
when there is nothing that does not wish to be born.
These are the days of spring when the fate
of the present is a breezy fullness, when the world’s
great gift for fiction gilds even the dirt we walk on.
On such days we feel we could live forever, yet all
the while we know we cannot. This is the doubleness
in which we dwell. The great master of weather
and everything else, if he wishes, can bring forth
a dark of a different kind, one hidden by darkness
so deep it cannot be seen. No one escapes.
Not even the man who saved others, and believed
he was the chosen son. When the dark came down
even he cried out, ‘Father, father, why have you
forsaken me?’ But to his words no answer came.


5
To be thirsty. To say, ‘I thirst.’ To be given,
instead of water, vinegar, and that to be pressed
from a sponge. To close one’s eyes and see the giant
world that is born each time the eyes are closed.
To see one’s death. To see the darkening clouds
as the tragic cloth of a day of mourning. To be the one
mourned. To open the dictionary of the Beyond and discover
what one suspected, that the only word in it
is nothing. To try to open one’s eyes, but not to be
able to. To feel the mouth burn. To feel the sudden
presence of what, again and again, was not said.
To translate it and have it remain unsaid. To know
at last that nothing is more real than nothing.


6
‘It is finished,’ he said. You could hear him say it,
the words almost a whisper, then not even that,
but an echo so faint it seemed no longer to come
from him, but from elsewhere. This was his moment,
his final moment. “It is finished,” he said into a vastness
that led to an even greater vastness, and yet all of it
within him. He contained it all. That was the miracle,
to be both large and small in the same instant, to be
like us, but more so, then finally to give up the ghost,
which is what happened. And from the storm that swirled
a formal nakedness took shape, the truth of disguise
and the mask of belief were joined forever.


7
Back down these stairs to the same scene,
to the moon, the stars, the night wind. Hours pass
and only the harp off in the distance and the wind
moving through it. And soon the sun’s gray disk,
darkened by clouds, sailing above. And beyond,
as always, the sea of endless transparence, of utmost
calm, a place of constant beginning that has within it
what no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, what no hand
has touched, what has not arisen in the human heart.
To that place, to the keeper of that place, I commit myself.


- Mark Strand

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A New Commandment

Falling Stars

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Falling Stars

Do you remember still the falling stars

that like swift horses through the heavens raced

and suddenly leaped across the hurdles

of our wishes -- do you recall?

And we did make so many!

For there were countless numbers of stars;

each time we looked above we were astounded by

the swiftness of their daring play,

while in our hearts we felt safe and secure

watching those brilliant bodies disintegrate,

knowing somehow we had survived their fall.

-- Rainer Maria Rilke

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Image by Anand Zaveri

What's Left

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What's Left
(for Peter Hennessy)

I used to wait for the flowers,
my pleasure reposed on them.
Now I like plants before they get to the blossom.
Leafy ones — foxgloves, comfrey, delphiniums —
fleshy tiers of strong leaves pushing up
into air grown daily lighter and more sheened
with bright dust like the eyeshadow
that tall young woman in the bookshop wears,
its shimmer and crumble on her white lids.
The washing sways on the line, the sparrows pull
at the heaps of drying weeds that I’ve left around.
Perhaps this is middle age. Untidy, unfinished,
knowing there’ll never be time now to finish,
liking the plants — their strong lives —
not caring about flowers, sitting in weeds
to write things down, look at things,
watching the sway of shirts on the line,
the cloth filtering light.

I know more or less
how to live through my life now.
But I want to know how to live what’s left
with my eyes open and my hands open;
I want to stand at the door in the rain
listening, sniffing, gaping.
Fearful and joyous,
like an idiot before God.

- Kerry Hardie

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Come Away To Belize With Us

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We're out loving the world right now...

Click here to come along!

Regular posting to resume soon...

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Saint Anne's Supports The Millennium Development Goals

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Thank you to Christian Picciolini for the amazing work and the permission to spread the word.

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One Life

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They say your way is different from my way,
your savior is not my savior,
your forever is not my forever.
But, the truth is all life is one life.

-- Mutant Message Down Under

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You're It

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You're It

God disguised as a myriad of things
and playing a game of tag,
has kissed you and said
"You're it --- I mean you're Really IT!

Now it does not matter

what you believe or feel,

for something wonderful,

major-league wonderful,

is someday going to happen.

-- Hafiz

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After Epiphany

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Light

Beyond the darkness
there is a light
a light of hope
a light of life
a light of future
but....
will it...
give the hope
will it....
light the path
will it...
brighten the life
You alone decide

-- Mary Dos



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A Prayer For The World

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A Prayer for the World

Let the rain come and wash away the ancient grudges, the bitter hatreds held and nurtured over generations.

Let the rain wash away the memory of the hurt, the neglect.

Then let the sun come out and fill the sky with rainbows.

Let the warmth of the sun heal us wherever we are broken.

Let it burn away the fog so that we can see each other clearly.





So that we can see beyond labels, beyond accents, gender or skin color.

Let the warmth and brightness of the sun melt our selfishness.

So that we can share the joys and feel the sorrows of our neighbors.

And let the light of the sun be so strong that we will see all
people as our neighbors.

Let the earth, nourished by rain, bring forth flowers to surround us with beauty.

And let the mountains teach our hearts to reach upward to heaven.

Amen.

- Rabbi Harold Kushner

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Light

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The Light of God before me
The Light of God behind me
The Light of God above me
The Light of God beside me
The Light of God within me

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