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!

 

 

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On Disagreement

How well do we
disagree?

How well do we--
    as individuals,
    as a culture,
    as a nation in the world arena--
disagree?

Part of maturity,
part of an evolved faith,
is the ability to disagree
    with respect,
    with appreciation,
    with empathy,
    with acceptance,
    with grace

(and therefore
    without ridicule,
    without defensiveness,
    without anger,
    without fear).

I think, for example,
of American politics*:

If God watches to see
how well we disagree,
how sad she must feel.

*or religion, morality, social media, etc.

Text and image © 2015 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Advent Lament

No, you come to early,
    Lord Jesus:
Just announced, yet here it is,
    two weeks from your arrival.

We've got too much to do...
    Chex Mix to make,
    cookies to bake.
Thank God (I mean, thank your Father)
    the tree's up...
    oh, but not the garland
and gifts to wrap, and cheer to spread--
    nursing-home visits,
    the pageant at church,
a shepherd's staff to craft,
an angel's halo to weave of tinsel.
    Wash the guest-bed sheets!
plump pillows,
plan menus,
purchase the ham...
    (Wait, ham? You're Jewish still?)

Perhaps this year,
    you could come with the kings,
    at Epiphany?
All arrive together
    in your black Crown Victoria?

Above all my heart--
    not quite ready...
Who am I kidding?
    It will take a week, at least,
    to clear it's arrogant clutter.

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

December Work

A dozen tasks traipse through my head
as I lie silent on my bed.
It's sugar plums I wish would dance;
they hold a good deal more romance
than deadlines, proofs and printer's woes.
But thus it is, and so it goes.

It's not the first night, heaven knows,
when work intrudes upon my rest
and stacks its folders on my chest
and shouts, "Today we go to press!"

"Enough!" I cry and sit upright,
"You have my day, but not the night!
Get out each tick from my 'to-do.'
Right now I have no need of you!"

I herd them out, return to bed
and on my pillow rest my head.
And as I hoped, those sugar plums
return to caper, leap and spin--
and do not let the job list in.

"Relax," they say, "life's so much more
than what awaits outside the door."

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.

In the Lawn

G.I. Joe,
abandoned in his backyard fortress
    of rocks and sticks,
forgotten in favor
    of flesh and blood warriors,
rules now
over a platoon of the small--
    ants and dragonflies,
    mice and voles--
who, awed by his muscles, his uniform,
    his commanding voice,
    his superior intellect,
    the plastic, camouflaged Jeep,
willingly follow and obey--

in the playroom, a doll;
in the lawn, god.

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

Boundaries

Oh,
so now you'd like
your procrastination
to become
my emergency?

No.

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

Because Things Do

Things fall apart
    then reassemble.
Life unravels
    then weaves back together.
The water overwhelms
    then recedes.

This is always the pattern;
    we've lived it 1,000 times,
    survived it 1,000 times.

Yet always
    between the disaster
    and the recovery,
    between the spill
    and the cleanup
is a point of despair,
    of "It will always be this way"
    and "What's the point?"
rarely "This too shall pass...
    like all others have passed."

This too shall pass
    because things do.

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

 

Invitation 2

Today
I invite you
to welcome the Encounter
and not hide from it.

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

Soon Enough

Death comes soon enough;
Why invite it in early?

    Why be jealous? Why be angry?
        Why nurse the grudge,
        rehearse the hurt?
    Why resent? Why fear?

Why welcome decay?
Why hurry death?

Soon enough. Soon enough.

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