The 60-Second Sabbath

On Becoming an Anti-Racist: Part Sixteen

 

CAWS

I propose we create a new organization:

    Christians against White Supremacy

or CAWS for short.

Our logo/mascot
    will be the common crow,
who, as you know,
    caws.

As Christians,
    we share this common CAWS.

Every time you hear a crow caw
    you will know it is speaking out against
white supremacy.

    Caw, caw!
        I condemn white supremacy!

For, as Christians,
    we are indeed called to condemn
all systems and movements
    that exist to suppress, oppress
any identified group,
    any system that seeks
to maintain control over others
    for their own benefit.

I hope that all Christians
    can immediately and wholeheartedly say:

    I condemn white supremacy.

In fact, I'm wondering
    if that could be a helpful way
to identify fellow believers:
    Can you say, with me,

    I condemn white supremacy.

Will you say it with me now, aloud:

    I condemn white supremacy.

And then, say it aloud some time today
    with your family,
with a friend,
    when you gather with other believers:

    I condemn white supremacy.

Why is it
    that so many who claim the title Christian
are not preaching, teaching, shouting this?

I wonder...

    Caw! Caw!

 

 

Text and image © 2020 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.
Visit PhotosByDirk.com for fine-art photography.
Visit The60SecondSabbath.com, where spirit and image merge.

Have you ordered your copy of Contemplative Vision: Photography as a Spiritual Practice? 
Follow this link: https://www.churchpublishing.org/contemplativevision

The Point

When I walked into the kitchen this morning,
eager for my warming cup of cinnamon decaf,
I found a note on the counter
    ...from Sophia.
It started:

    Sorry we missed you.
    Figured you were sleeping in
        because of the gray skies and snow.
    Enjoy!

Then she got to the point:

    Was talking with the guys this morning,
    and we thought you could use this reminder:

The purpose/point/intent
of the life of faith
is not sometime in the future,
but now.

To know and love God
now.

To serve and love others
now.

To inhale and exhale joy,
now.

To absorb and exude compassion,
now.

To cultivate union with
and love for God
now.

The focal point
of the life of faith--
of your life of faith--
is this moment.

I've been reading and re-reading this since.

Text and image © 2017 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.
Visit PhotosByDirk.com for fine-art photography.
Visit The60SecondSabbath.com, where spirit and image merge.

Advent Grief

How, at your end, are things?

Christmas just a few weeks away
and such sudden emptiness
of home, of heart

death leaves us vacant;
I have felt it;
negative space the shape of your beloved

for a time
you shall occupy that space
cry there, breathe there
fall into sleep there,
    a sleep not unlike death
unfathomably, you shall heal there
there in that nothingness

it's not a dangerous place
just necessary and sad

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Veils

Throughout life
each loss
removes another of the veils
that obscure the Mystery
we desperately yearn
to see and hold.

Some veils
slip slowly from their rods,
like so much sighing.

Some veils
are torn away
by sudden and ferocious winds,
like flashes of celestial anger.

Loss hurts so very much.

But there is this, at least--
by now we are many veils closer,
so many veils closer...

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Life

What is life, then,
but the gradual uncovering
of our elastic,
unbreakable,
tether to God?

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Surgery

As my sister's
    surgery starts,
guide the hands
    and still the hearts,

calm the nerves
    and dry the tears,
give us patience,
    ease our fears.

All scenarios
    we have found
lead us on
    to sacred ground,

God's scarred hands
    and God's embrace,
God's compassion,
    God's soft grace.

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Prayer for the Cat

Lord bless the paw
that touches the cheek
that bears the tears
that cleanse the heart
that's battered and scarred.

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Dreaming

At night they come to me--
my sister or my father,
my mother or her mother--
mutually recognizing
that they have died
and that we have,
for whatever reason,
been given a few more minutes together.

Sometimes,
I ask questions,
because I need to know,
to understand
myself.

Sometimes
it is enough to be silent together,
exchanging looks drained of everything
but acceptance.

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Striving

Too much striving--
    to repair the past,
    to guarantee the future,
    to be what others want--
so, so weary of striving.

The dying say,
"I regret having worked so hard."

Aren't we all "the dying"?

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

God Undefined

Give me a God
who's a little bit odd,
    who strays a bit south of convention,
a God made of parts
of old broken hearts,
    a God of unnerving invention.

I want the Divine
to stray from the line
    and shrug off our tight expectation,
a puzzle to some,
a scandal who comes
    to those who prefer straight dictation,

a God undefined,
who sips at the wine
    of kindness and starlight and laughter,
who dances at night
in reckless delight
    and promises sweet ever-after.

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.