Poetry and Prayer—Day 23: March 23

Written by: Julia Smolucha

Marked by Ashes by Walter Brueggemann

Frazzled, we wait. Frightened, we wait. Forgetful, we wait. Forgotten, we wait. Fearless, we wait. Forged in the fire of misfortune, we wait. Fatigued, we wait. With failed hope, we wait. Unforsaken, we wait. As we wait, you enter in. Unexpected. Sometimes unwelcome. Often unseen. In our waiting, find us, renew us, bless us. Amen.

A Collective Murmuration, IV: Murmuration of Blessing

May 15, 2022

The starlings evoke and symbolize then, in their own way, the Anthropocene, the human-centered geological age we are in, which is changing the world in damaging ways we have yet to even imagine (though we are beginning to imagine, yes?). The metaphor of murmuration is a reminder that we can, should, and must work together, in collective synchronicity for the sake of God’s good earth. In this way, murmuration is an imperfect metaphor: a metaphor with heartache at the center.

A Collective Murmuration, III: Murmuration of Love

May 8, 2022

In this image of the Good Shepherd, we see the motherhood of God, God bending to hear our whisper, God pausing amid the rush of life to be alongside us in such a way as to hear—really hear—the trepidations, the fears, the secrets of our lives.... On Mother’s Day, we learn again that God is a Multilingual Mother, bending near to hear our whisper, our cry.

A Collective Murmuration, II: Murmuration of Song

May 1, 2022

We need the words “Lord have Mercy” as much as we need the words “I believe.” And that’s what I know about our friend David Honoré as well. He held the words “Lord have mercy” as close to his heart as he held the words “I believe.” The song in his heart, and the one pouring from his operatic tenor voice, was tuned to the language of God’s glory. He relied on the ancient language of faith, like a tree planted by streams of water, rooted, grounded, prepared, in harmony with the divine in a way that brought peace, even to the last.

Poetry and Prayer—Day 23: March 23