Salt and light

After Matthew 5:13-16 

You are both

salt and light,

salt to season

and enhance, 

and light

to shine so

others may

see. You are

salt to flavor

the message,

you are light

to illuminate

the truth.

You are salt

to preserve;

you are light

to dispel

the darkness.

 

Photograph by Tim Hufner via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

How Do I Live in God’s Presence Every Day? – Daniel Hyde at Reformation 21.

 

The Defining Mark of the Christian – Robb Brunansky at The Cripplegate.

 

Driving Through Cornfields: Past the End of the World – Timothy Willard at Rapt.

Light

After Matthew 5:13-16 

Light shines,

light illumines,

dispelling darkness

allowing truth to be

seen. No one uses

light to hide it,

or bring it. Light

is used to shine

upon the truth.

 

Put your light

upon a stand,

elevated to shine

in the household,

in the village,

in the land,

in the world.

 

Let your light shine

for others to see,

to allow others

in darkness come

into the light.

 

Photograph by Dyu-Ha via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

“The Beginning of Contemplation,” poem by Gail Fox – D.S. Martin at Kingdom Poets.

 

“The Kingdom of God,” poem by Francis Thompason – Megan Willome at Poetry for life.

 

Eclipsing the Sun – Seth Lewis.

 

The Ministry of Saying Less – Peter Mead at Biblical Preaching.

The light burst

After Isaiah 7:14, 9:2-7

The light burst

upon the darkness.

The people who had walked

in darkness suddenly could

see the yoke, the burden,

has been broken and

removed. The child is born,

born of a virgin;

a son is given,

born of a virgin;

a birth like no other

before or since has

happened, a son born

to rule, to govern,

to bring peace,

to be forever.

 

Photograph by Casey Horner via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

“Gerontion,” poem by T.S. Eliot – Joseph Bottum at Poems Ancient and Modern.

 

A Concise Theology of Failure – Samuel D. James at Digital Liturgies.

 

Dear Josephine – Sarah Dixon Young at Story Warren.

"Blue Moon" by Aviv

It’s a fairy tale of sorts, a tale of two kingdoms, the Kingdom of Light and the Kingdom of Darkness. 

A beautiful, kind princess lives in the Kingdom of Light, and her life is filled with the kind of lovely things you’d expect. Across the shared river is the Kingdom of Darkness, ruled by a prince. One day, as the princess and her court picnic on the riverbank, she looks across and feels an almost irresistible attraction – for what, exactly, she’s not sure. She starts swimming. The members of the court think she’s merely doing a short swim, but this time, she swims to the other side.

 

The prince of Darkness, for his part, has also been feeling an attraction. The two meet, and the rest, as they say, is fairy tale history. Almost. There is more to come, much more, and what is coming will threaten everyone.

 

Aviv

Blue Moon: A Love Story Between Darkness and Light is the first short novel, in fact, the first story published by an Israeli writer who is simply calls himself Aviv, a name that I believe translates into English as “Spring.” What we know about him is he was born in the 1970s and that he’s long been an enthusiast about myths, fairy tales, and legends. And with Blue Moon, he’s written one, and it’s delightfully illustrated by Shani Atzmon.

 

You can take the story at face value and read it as a love story between two people and told as a fairy tale. You can also read it as a metaphorical exploration of the human psyche, with all of us being composed of darkness and light. You could also read it geopolitically, but I don’t think that’s the author’s intention. Instead, he’s told a story, and you are to make of it as you will.

Some Monday Readings

 

Blue sky – poem and artwork by Sonja Benskin Miller.

 

Walking England’s Coast Part 1: From Dover to Romney – Chris Arnade at Walking the World.

 

Ernest Hemingway survived 2 plane crashes. His letter from it just sold for $237,055 – Jennifer Ludden at NPR. 

 

Dreaming spires? Arnold’s Oxford – Nicholas Shrimpton at New Criterion.

 

 

An eyeful

After Matthew 6:22-23 

The eye sees.

The eye observes.

The eye notices and

makes sens of the world.

The eye explains.

The eye enlightens.

The eye is the gateway

to the heart, to the soul.

If the eye is healthy,

the body is healthy,

suffused by light. But

if the eye sees wrongly,

improperly, fractured,

misunderstanding, and

ignoring, then it fills

the body with darkness.

If you see the dark and

not the light, the eye

absorbs and floods

the body with darkness,

a great darkness.

 

Photograph by v2osk via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Light

After Matthew 5:10-16 

To be called a light
in the world is to be
called to a singular
purpose. A light is
intended to shine,
not hidden under
a bush. A light is
like a city on a hill,
because it’s visible
to miles to anyone
who looks up.
A light is a lamp
for the world and
a lamp for the house,
and it shines to all
and for all within.
The children sing
this little light of mine,
but the fact is we are
the light,
the lights. 

Photograph by Kevin Finnerman via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Dawn breaks

After John 1:9-14 

Dawn cracks open,

a sliver of light

at first, pale gleam

opening in the east, 

presumptuous in

its challenge to

the darkness, which

safely ignores

the insignificant

glimmer until

the panic sets in,

not realizing it

was always too late

to darken the light.

The light was in

the world, the light

was the genesis

of the world, 

the light was

stranger to the world,

rejected 

by its own people

but not entirely,

accepted by a few,

a tiny few, a few

insignificant seeds,

mustard seeds,

chosen and created

and crafted within

the light, showing

the power of the light,

the light becoming

flesh.

 

Photograph by Avinash Kumar via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Witness

After John 1:6-8 

He is sent,

deputized to serve,

not as a light

but as a witness

to the light, the one

sent before into

the darkness

to herald arrival,

the coming

of the light, 

not the light but

witness to the light,

the one to announce

in the appointed hour,

the darkest hour,

the arrival of the dawn,

so that all could see

its arrival.

He is sent by God,

a holy messenger

and he carries

the name of John.

 

Photograph by Jose Ortega Castro via Unsplash. Used with permission.

So it begins

After John 1:1-5 

It begins with a word,

it begins with the word,

“word” implying speech

and thought, language

and understanding. And

more: this word is

in relationship,

relationship with God,

this word is God,

and all creation flows

through it.

This word is life,

this word is light,

the word shines

in the darkness,

a light to see,

a light to believe,

a light to defend 

against the darkness

it illumines.

 

Photograph by Jp Valery via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Early autumn light

Early autumn light
filters through branches
and leaves, parading
itself with shadows 
and patterns, fluid,
changing itself and
being changed by 
a brief puff of wind,
a passing bird sailing
on light-leavened currents,
a cloud.  

Early autumn light,
transient, ever-changing,
is discernible only
when paired with
darkness or shadow
ebbing toward
its wintry death. 
To understand the light,
first understand the dark.

The light appeared

After Romans 3:21-31

The light appeared, next

to the stone, uncarried,

the weight no one could bear.

The light illuminated

the stone, every shade and smoothness,

every groove and roughness,

the stone a perfection

unattainable, unachievable,

until the light appeared

and shined upon it. 

Photograph by Justin Luebke via Unsplash. Used with permission.

The light within

After Philippians 2:12-18

The light within is

not a natural thing, or

a physical phenomenon,

but one deliberately

inserted and planted,

lit from without to light

from within, and so it

needs nurturing and care,

feeding and stimulation.

It is a light that must be

worked out in fear, trembling,

its purpose not warmth

for the lightbearer but

illumination in the darkness

for finding the way home.

The light is implanted

so that others may see.

Photograph by Yeski Kangrang via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Poets and Poems: Michael Glaser and “The Threshold of Light”

The Threshold of Light by poet Michael Glaser reminds me why I like chapbooks as much as I do. A chapbook is a small collection, often a third of a size or less of a regular collection. It’s a sampling of a poet’s work, often drawn from individual poems already published. It can be as simple as 8 ½ by 11 sheets of paper folded and center-stitched with a slightly heavier paper cover, or it can be an artistically designed format, like this one by Glaser is.

The 21 poems included all relate to light in some way – dawn, the beginning of the day, a morning walk, how light changes in different geographies, how light is muffled by fog. But light is also a metaphor, and Glaser uses it in similar but also slightly different ways. Light can represent awareness, knowledge, beginnings, wisdom, energy, life, and grace. In fact, in this collection, he seems to use it mostly as a metaphor for awareness and grace.

To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.

Sunset, briefly reconsidered

Darkness proceeds, gathering

strength, chasing the cotton cloth

of light as it, in turn, diminishes,

a few vestiges still scattered

on the placid surface of water,

when,

right before a final triumph,

a crew of nine sculls its way,

silently slicing the surface.

Growing darkness and fading light

pause momentarily; the fate

of the emerging stars is suddenly

in doubt. 

Light briefly considers mounting

a counterattack before deciding 

a strategic retreat, knowing its time 

is coming again.

The editors of Tweetspeak Poetry are hosting a 30-Day, 30-Poem Challenge for Earth Month entitled, appropriately enough, Poetic Earth Month. Today, the featured poem is an excerpt from the poem “Trouble in Paradise” by Maureen Doallas, included in her collection Neruda’s Memoirs. The poetry prompt is to write a poem pointing to some kind of loss or joyous arrival of something or someone.

Photograph: Creve Coeur Lake, St. Louis County, Missouri.

The reason

After John 17:26

You are filled with light

for a reason. The light

shines; they can see it

even if they do not

understand it. They see it

and are filled with desire

for it. This love I have

for you, this love you have 

for me, shines to touch 

them, shines to envelop

them, shines to embrace

them. Whenever that light

shines, especially at darkest

times, darkest places,

they see it.

Photograph by Maxime Valcarce via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Church questions

After John 17: 20-23

What is more beautiful:

the stained glass

or the light

that shines through it?

What is more important:

the stained glass

or the light

that filters through it?

Can we see the light

without the stained glass,

or can we understand the glass

without the light?

Are we the stained glass

that filters the light, that

allows the beauty of the light

to be seen, to be known?

Photograph by Michael Fruehmann viaUnsplash. Used with permission.

Pathways

After I John 1:5-2:2

The two paths present a choice,

not a choice of high road

and low road, not the kind

of journey to the same place,

not a road taken or not taken,

but a choice more stark,

more obvious: a path of light

or a path of darkness.

We can’t choice darkness

believing our own light

is sufficient, for our own light

will be overcome (easily);

the darkness is too deep,

too thick, too overwhelming

to be overcome by our own light.

A different light is required, needed,

demanded to see clearly,

to understand deeply, to know

with certainty. The choice is

a double one: to choose the path

of light and to choose the light

ordained. The path is a single one:

not many paths, or even two,

but only one,

one to choose

and one to reject.

Photograph by Andrew Neel via Unsplash. Used with permission.