The curtain falls, down she goes
So long worth
All the applause seems beautiful
It’s got a hold on her
She whispers, “I’ll go home”
And then she’s reminded
That she doesn’t know where that is…
Thought I belonged
But I know I don’t
Thought I had love
But it is not enough
An aching inside speaking to me
How could I feel like this
So aimless
[Bethany Dillon – Aimless]
What have we begun?
Here we see angels,
burning like the sun.
Here we juggle destinies –
what is this thing we’ve done?
What army gets commissioned
kneeling in this way?
What passion finds expression
when wounded soldiers pray?
Are nameless heroes rising?
Tomorrow’s choosen ones,
carriers of Jesus,
what plague have we begun?
What dreamer writes upon the wall?
[Found on a prayer room wall]
What are the ‘walls’ in postmodern/postchristian/whatever-they-are-now-calling-it culture? Websites? Blogs? Music? Film?
Who are today’s dreamers, stirring up the church?
I remember hearing about an old comic strip back in the days of St. Ed’s. Two guys are talking to each other, and one of them says he has a question for God. He wants to ask why God allows all of this poverty and war and suffering to exist in the world. And his friend says, “Well, why don’t you ask?” The fellow shakes his head and says he is scared. When his friend asks why, he mutters, “I’m scared God will ask me the same question.” Over and over, when I ask God why all of these injustices are allowed to exist in the world, I can feel the Spirit whisper to me, “You tell me why we allow this to happen. You are my body, my hands, my feet.”
[ The Irresistible Revolution – Shane Claiborne ]
At CU yesterday we were thinking about the issue of pain and suffering, why it exists, what we do with it etc. Then I read this today. This is why we must act. We are called to not only pray against injustice and suffering, but to act to bring about its end. In a wise mans words, ‘It’s not about charity, it’s about justice.’ (Yes, that man was Bono.)
It’s about bringing heaven here.
Sleep, don’t weep, my sweet love
My face is all wet ’cause my day was rough
So do what you must do to find yourself
Wear another shoe, paint my shelf
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I hope I find a place where I feel I belong
[Sleep, Don’t Weep – Damien Rice]
“We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she’s known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.
We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don’t get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won’t solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we’re called home.”
Sorry for the long quote, but it is impacting me. I very briefly highlighted this story a few months ago when I was introduced to it by a friend in Chicago, but I’ve been thinking about it a bit again lately. Check out the story here.
I think sometimes we can get so easily discouraged and wonder why things aren’t changing or aren’t turning out the way we hoped. But that is part of the paradox of the Christian life, of this journey of following Jesus – things wont always turn out how we hoped. But we still have a responsibility and a calling to act, to do something… otherwise how will anything ever change? And really, it’s not that hard is it? Buy the homeless guy a cup of coffee. Talk to the Big Issue seller you walk past everyday. Be willing to be interrupted.
I guess it links back into my post about life-giving, hope-filled communities.
A cry.
A cry lies within us in the depth of a place which we cannot touch.
Waiting to escape the enclosed gates of our expression.
Something is happening inside of us, beyond what we can articulate.
So we respond. We respond to You; we respond to You Jesus.
In Your pure light I have come out of the shadows of darkness.
You alone are the one that can satisfy.
Seeping every vacant space inside of me: reality.
In You, in me in You. I try to imagine forever.
And at a certain point my brain stops, but that’s You–forever being, forever existing, forever knowing You.
Before there was anyone, anything, and You–and after everything there is no more: You.
My thoughts can’t even fully comprehend You,
so whatever praise my thoughts begin, my spirit has to complete.
And every time I take in a breath, I discover You.
That the same breath I’m breathing originated inside of You.
So I breathe You in. Because You take me in Jesus.
In Your pure light I have come out of the shadows of darkness.
You alone satisfy.
Seeping into every vacant space inside of me–try to imagine forever.
That’s You: forever being, forever existing, forever knowing You.
Before there was anyone, anything, You. After everything there was is no more: You.
And every time I take in a breath…
And every time I take in a breath, I discover You.
I breathe You in, because You take me in.
We breathe You in, because You take us in…
To be still and breathe that You are God.
Spoken Word, written by Amena Brown
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