djordan
Pine Tree
most hopeful
choosing to be most hopeful
Tag Archives: justice
on psalm 72
Give the King your justice, O God,
and your righteousness to the King’s Son;
That he may rule your people righteously
and the poor with justice
That the mountains may bring prosperity to the people,
and the little hills bring righteousness.
He shall defend the needy among the people;
he shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor.
He shall live as long as the sun and moon endure,
from one generation to another.
He shall come down like rain upon the cut grass,
like showers that water the earth.
In his time shall the righteous flourish;
there shall be abundance of peace till the moon shall be no more.
He shall rule from sea to sea,
and from the River to the ends of the earth.
+Psalm 72
We ask for the courage to speak into justice for the poor,
and freedom for the oppressed.
We ask for humility to know that as we speak into these requests,
we speak out against ourselves.
We ask for the imagination necessary to hold us until
we see you covering all the earth like the morning sun and dew.
We ask for the patience to know that as we join you now
still we wait until it is your time.
Give us eyes to see and ears to hear.
And give us courage to speak and work as we wait.
Amen.
djordan
Pine Tree
Relate Posts | Monday mornings | Some days we open our eyes | Half ready, half afraid
not willing to walk back in the shadows
Heretics,
creative thinkers,
innovators,
seem to appear just when we need them,
despite the high cost of living in opposition.
They do so because they can’t help themselves.
Having seen a brighter light ahead of them,
they are not willing to walk back in the shadows.
Some inner force compels them forward
with a power greater than their fear
of the hostility that awaits them.
That force is God.
+ John Sloat
reminder of a better way
We are a people of privilege and entitlement.
We are among the haves––
we have education,
connections,
power,
and wealth.
Too often we are indulgent and self-sufficient consumers.
We speak of our achievements and accomplishments.
Sometimes we offer God liturgies of disregard,
litanies of selves made too big.
But we hear faint reminders of
a better way.
+ W. Brueggeman, “Well Arranged Lives”
from Prayers for a Privileged People
MORE FROM BRUEGGEMAN
In remembering and in hoping
Catch us up into reality
on most days, a hard mix
in the middle of a meeting
we often find ourselves in meetings
sitting around tables
clicking keys on laptops
and scribbles of doodle and words soon forgotten
written on pads and scraps and notebooks
we find ourselves in meetings all the time
and we love our work
and we are used to being tired
and we are used to being grateful
and we are used to working hard
and we are used to hoping our hard work is a part
of something that looks like the kingdom in our midst
and we are used to sitting in meetings
sitting around tables
trying to plan and execute.
What we are not used to, though
is the every now and then meeting that leaves
our hearts thumping louder than the keys,
scribbles and doodles and imagination racing
through our minds too fast to come out of our mouths
we are not used to these kinds of meetings
even though they happen all the time
with new partners and new friends
with new dreams and new imaginations
with new needs and new visions
with new prayers and new hopes
where we realize, for those brief moments,
the rules have changed
the ideals have changed
the agenda has changed
the reason has changed
the meaning has changed
the implications have changed
the group of women and men sitting around the table realize
together
that something from another realm is happening
smack dab in the middle of a meeting with
clicking keys
scribbles
doodles
pads
notebooks
and ourselves.
the kind of meetings we often find ourselves in.
And so smack dab in the middle of a meeting
we give thanks.
djordan
S Church Street
RELATED POSTS
in the shadows of great ambitions | failure to imagine | crack our great ambitions | calling out in the darkness
once upon every time
It’s as much of once upon every time as it is has ever been once upon a time.
Power and ambition kill. Others first, ourselves finally.
Humility and selflessness kill. Ourselves first, evil and injustice finally.
Having just returned from Snow White and the Huntsman, I found myself reeling throughout the whole thing, and even still.
The first words were, of course, voiced over in thick accent…
“Once upon a time…”
But it is once upon this time. And once upon a time a year ago today. And once upon every time.
The storytellers have tried to make it clear for ages upon ages and times upon times,
But we have to learn it again for ourselves once upon our times, and sometimes more than once.
All that is in us tells us to fight with might to protect our own.
But fighting with might to protect our own,
fighting with educations, investments, gates, codes, doctrines, prejudices, words, wars,
fighting with might to protect our own leads to a slow unraveling.
But fighting that actually protects is a byproduct of other pursuits.
a byproduct of seeking the good of others,
of giving up on great ambitions,
of investing for the sake of the lives of others rather that for the protection of ourselves against others, of opening gates, sharing codes, listening to the doctrines of others,
knowing before judging,
listening,
serving,
fighting with humility and selflessness, not with great ambitions of winning,
but simply because we can’t imagine not fighting for whatever things are
true
good
just
lovely
honest
And then, in the end, of course, just as the story begins with once upon a time, it finishes with…
But alas, we have never been known, in life outside the tales spun by fairies, as patient enough to wait for the ever after.
As if we’ve ever had a choice.
djordan
Pine Tree
failure to imagine
I remember the first time I watched Amazing Grace. I felt immediately proud and cowardly, feeling both as I resonated with humanity at its best and worst. Wilberforce looked the status quo in the eyes, evil and injustice and profitable as it was, and challenged it. Of course, he was able to do so because he had the money and the power and the influence to ultimately play hard ball with the good old boys.
But the scene I remember from the film is one where sitting around a table, their inability to imagine how they could continue profitable businesses, orderly communities, and the current status quo made Wilberforce’s audience unable to move forward with the abolition of slavery. They were likely people who sought justice in other ways, but this hit too close to home, and their imaginations could not overshadow their greed and lust for power.
I was reading a review this week of Taylor’s new book, “A Slave in the Whitehouse,” (referenced here in this week’s MASH) where she described President Madison as one who worked for fair treatment (relatively speaking of course) for slaves in the country, but upon his death did not free a single one of his own. It was Taylor, the reviewer of the book, who stated, “Madison did not believe that white and black Americans could live side by side on terms of equality and amity. His failure to imagine a world more capacious and tolerant than his own helps explain a good deal of subsequent history, and America’s resistance to the very practice of equality that Madison otherwise did so much to foster.”
I think about Martin Luther King.
I think about Nelson Mandela.
I think about Mahatma Ghandi.
I think about the nameless men and women who follow their imaginations into a different kind of possibility for the future. Not just for and around issues of civil justice, but around issues of technology, healthcare, development, education.
They were no doubt met with others whose imaginations had been stifled, and therefore could not wrestle themselves away from comfort and power to risk them both for the sake of a more kingdom-like future.
And so my mind now turns to those schools, churches and organizations that foster imagination and second-guessing as a guiding principle. It is from these communities that we will see change happen. Of all the downfalls I am at risk of meeting, I hope that one of a failure of imagination isn’t the one that takes me down.
My friend Craig has said before, “Of all the ridiculous things God has called us to do, defending the status quo is not one of them.” And whatever is to break the status quo always begins with a strong imagination.
Pine Tree
djordan
not drumming alone
“Never give up. Never give up. Never give up.” she said into the camera on her computer.
We were finishing class today, and I had just asked my friend Caroline––skyping in from a patio in the shadow of the great Table Mountain in Cape Town––what advice she would give to my classroom full of students going into the world with the issues of poverty and the church on their minds and hearts.
I was sitting in the front of the classroom which I suddenly regretted as these words came out of her mouth.
“Never give up. Never give up. Never give up.”
She went on to elaborate, and my mind floated back to my days in Cape Town last spring almost a year ago. I was in the middle of major transitions where the issues of poverty and the church were becoming issues that meant a world of difference when it came to my job, my income, my church, and my future. I remember sitting, clinging to the future as we now refer to it, scared of what the future held, but knowing there was nowhere to go but into the issues of what it means for the church and its people to worry less about success and more about obedience.
Caroline went on to say to the students, with me sitting in the front of the classroom, “Never give up. You will follow Christ in pursuit of the kingdom, and you will struggle. And you will feel like you are the only one. And you will feel as though you have been beating a drum for a very long time all by yourself and no one is listening, and no one else is beating that kingdom drum…”
Sitting in the front of the classroom, where the students can see me but Caroline cannot, I feel my eyes beginning to well with tears.
“…but you are not the only one beating that drum. And there are others, too, following Christ not into success but into obedience, into the kingdom, who feel as though they are the only ones being champions of justice, and they need to find you as well. Never give up. Never give up. Never give up.”
My intentions had been for our class to pray for Caroline before we ended the Skype call, but we were not able to.
I caught myself trying to say, “Caroline is a dear friend who has taught me much. And she and other very dear friends have reminded me in times that felt quite lonely that it is worth speaking out for justice and working toward the kingdom…” But that is where the thank you had to end, because my eyes were getting thick with tears at the wrong time.
Another friend spoke today at the community-wide Holy Week noon service. “The time is now,” he said, “to worry less about seeking our own success, and more about seeking the kingdom.”
He also reminds me that I am not drumming alone.
I had a conversation tonight with an elderly gentleman about our small house church joining their older congregation in serving the homeless this summer. He reminded me that I am not drumming alone.
A dear friend once grabbed my shoulder at a time when I needed it more than anything else, he looked me in the eyes, and he said, “You are not alone. There are many of us, and we are seeking the kingdom together.” He reminds me constantly that we are not drumming alone.
Thanks, Caroline, for making me choke up in front of my class.
And thanks for reminding me, and them, that we seek first the kingdom together, and that we are not drumming alone.
djordan
Pine Tree Dr.
pain is no measure
I believe in a blessing I don’t understand
I’ve seen rain fall on wicked and the just
Rain is no measure of his faithfulness
He withholds no good thing from us
No good thing from us, no good thing from us
I believe in a peace that flows deeper than pain
That broken find healing in love
Pain is no measure of his faithfulness
He withholds no good thing from us
No good thing from us, no good thing from us
I will open my hands, will open my heart
I will open my hands, will open my heart
I am nodding my head an emphatic yes
To all that You have for [us]
I believe in a fountain that will never dry
Though I’ve thirsted and didn’t have enough
Thirst is no measure of his faithfulness
He withholds no good thing from us
No good thing from us, no good thing from us
I will open my hands, will open my heart
I will open my hands, will open my heart
I am nodding my head an emphatic yes
To all that You have for [us]
No good thing from us
No good thing from us
He withholds no good thing from us
I will open my hands, will open my heart
I will open my hands, will open my heart
I am nodding my head an emphatic yes
To all that You have for [us]
+ Sara Groves, “Open My Hands”
from Invisible Empires
now we are homeward
Through this day we have named your name in gladness, we have pondered the world you have called “good,” we have relished your gift and your task, and we have marveled in amazement, yet one more time, at the wonder of this Easter Jesus, who has died and is alive among us.
Now we are homeward; And when we arrive there, it will be as it was this morning, with anxiety and demand and conflict and inconvenience. Except that all things will be–yet again–made new. Make new by your spirit; make new the church where we live; make new the public reality of justice among us; make new the practice of compassion in our neighborhood; make new the surge of peace in our violent world; make new the policies of our government and the workings of the church.
Make new, and we will be in Easter joy unafraid and unweary, your glad people, carrying among us the marks of the death and the new life of Jesus in whose name we pray.
+ W. Brueggeman, “Habitat of Newness and Goodness”
from Prayers for a Privileged People
most hopeful 