Sunday, February 22, 2015

Humus still smeared on my face

“Why should it be said
 among the peoples,
‘Where is their God?’”
                       __Joel 2:17
It has come to this, 
day of ash and cross. and good it is that this is so: we can start.
remember o mortal:
there is nothing to say, nothing that is real, nothing that is hopeful,
nothing that means anything without this,
this day of carbon: ground-up planetary minerals
designing dirt,
carbon cleansing,
reality
of God. remember o mortal who are you.
humus
my face honest
free from artifice, and God creating again.  
we come to this day, to this place, where truth is told:
which makes forgiveness possible.

forgiveness, and turning, turning, turning
returning   summoning nerve to tell truth
stretching taut muscles to lean down
‘presente’
about ourselves,
hearing truth
about ourselves.
this day. when truth is told:
which makes forgiveness possible.

remember, o mortal, you are dust: 
you are humus,
the very humus 
God uses to fashion your being:  you come from God;
to  this, dust, God-making material,
in humility, in humus you shall return:
back into the very heart of God;
you shall return.
And so we live:
we live,
we must live, awareness of our humus,
our humility,
our madeness, our createdness, our fashioning,
straight from the heart of God.
in the Imago Dei: the mystery of the divine shows up as we do,
the life of God alive as we come alive. God shows up in and through us,
the fancy word is ‘manifest.’
Or you can say, God. Is. In Her. Him. Them. “People, see, look! look at what God does.”
but we don’t.
\

  

we don’t ‘do’ God, we do us:  broken-apart, scared, screwed-up us.
greedy, scared, anxious us.
shoot, but we are scared     of our shadow like,  literally.
and we project it not – oh, if only – on mother’s hung up bedsheets like a movie in the dark.
we project it on others.
and we live in fear of who we are – the we we see in them.  the me we see in them.
so forgive me please: I’ll be back but first:
there is a tree trunk I need to pry out of my eye; it will require excavation; does anyone
have        a crane?       a winch?
ooo, there, almost, got it, but another will get lodged in tomorrow. this is not a life for the feint of heart, all this wrenching and rooting out. but it must be done.
for the love of God, I’ve done it again: screw up. oh, God, how we screw it up.
so here we are.
we have come          
we have come to this time to tell the truth
so forgiveness, repentance can come out of us and
into us into us can happen and again something come out of us
that is the divine, God, who creates a new heart, a new desire, new love
for all that is God, for all that God desires – for us and for God’s whole creation
here, this. humus on my face, again,
so God can use it again to make of me the one God wants
to ‘do’ God, to ‘be’ the God that is alive for now with some skin and a mouth, a brain, and a heart.
NOT GOD. but the work of God, heart, love, inclusion, truth-telling.
so, again, forgiveness can happen
and turning and welcome and  beloved community can find its place on this planet.

we have come to this. oh, good.
and we have come to this: oh boy, but this too is true:
turning comes with truth and truth comes with a prophetic word, a word that is honest, loving, but clear; there is always love or there would be no bother to tell truth,
and this:
prophecy is the return of blessing. truth gives space for blessing, for the new act,
and oh,
we still haven’t seen everything under the sun,
there is still something new and revealing what is and what
isn’t
brings forth the blessing
of that new thing, new creation, the new appearance of God’s design, desire, intention.
 
failure to make room for God to make, failure
to honor what all God has
what all God has poured Herself into, draws us here, to this: 

“have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy, blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin…

create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.

the sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart,
O God, you will not despise.”

this
here
is the only place for this to begin. This, this, here, here,
here
humus smeared in the sign of the cross on my face,
and water splashed around it, affirming my call, in baptism, and yours,
washed ready,
having told truth  heard it,
having turned and bent down low to be fashioned anew,
built up out of the humus, in humility,
only now do I dare to
offer blessing, that is truth: the possibility of return, 
repentance: I call in the name of God,
in the name of grace and all that is
right and good and
kind, in the name of
Creator God, I call to "Officials" 
who have hard hearts (or blind guides), to turn 
turn turn 
turning, come
to my friends, to others,
as I rend my heart over the broken hearts of Lesbian, Bisexual, Gay, Transexual, and Queer
humus-fashioned friends and strangers, in love for them,
telling truth their truth their reality their lives humus-in-the-image-of-God.
some harsh words for intolerance, impatience (Lord, help me!) and indignation because, oh,
how long do we really expect them to wait?  impatience is not a bad thing always when
God is involved.


                                                   but
it must start here, digging the log out of my eye, knowing one will be back, I speak
only
only can I dare to speak with a face covered in dirt, the dust
from which I’ve come, to which I go,
and in the meantime, now
God  -- who is is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast
love:             needs our attention:
Return return, come back, come, come to me,   return to me with all your heart: make room for me my people my banished exiled
all
all
and weep, mourn, and rend your hearts (not your clothes), break your hearts
over the hearts of my people, for them,
for them to see,
to know, to be clear
they are humus – “Mine, says God, Mine, in my image.”
Like you.
Like me.



“Why should it be said among the peoples,
‘Where is their God?’”
                                           ___Joel 2:17

          Now that we are here, to the days of humus, with memory of humus, dust, fire, fresh in mind, past Ash Wednesday, the time for telling truth, so forgiveness is possible, so turning is possible, so the breaking in of blessing is possible, and even the miracles of change, the change we long for:   now only now we can speak these words, dare to hope, to dig and prepare the ground for new life. After all, “why should it be said among the peoples, where is their God?”    ---Why, right here, thank you! At work, through us!   May God enjoy her work through you! 

          I offer these words with humus still smeared on my face, in humility and love – even when it sounds not so sweet and lovey-dovey. Truth doesn’t, always. But why else do this if not for love? And I offer these words in hope, that repentance is possible. God is compelling.


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