Memory Eternal (my wings part two)

All day I played Wings Part Two on repeat

I didn’t want to hear anything else

Just tears poured out whenever I imagined

You were the light and the way they only read about

I didn’t start the day expecting it to become this way 

I left the post office and opened your purse

I hadn’t seen your face since I was nineteen

And now all I could see was your smile

I wish I had seen it in person since then

I remember it, but from too long ago

I wish I had just one more glance

Or better yet, one hug and kiss

And one for Alison, my angel, too

And one for Jadon, Eden, and Gaius

Or better yet, to spend a whole day with all of us together

To welcome you into my own home

To share a meal or two together

To hear your voice resound

To gaze at your smile next to me

To even cry together

I’m sure there would have been lots of tears

I would have been there holding you in my arms 

But I wasn’t ever given that chance

A son can dream, can’t he? 

I miss you so much

And yet I don’t even know the you in the driver’s license 

Other than what my teenage self last recollected

I’m so happy to have received your little notebook though

I immediately recalled your distinctive cursive handwriting 

It didn’t change a bit over the last two decades

Maybe my strong opinions about cursive need to change

And your faith in the Lord didn’t change either

I can imagine a certain someone still asking, “What faith?”

Forget about him

His faith only has a dozen followers

But yours has the hosts of heaven 

“Woe unto you that desire the day of the Lord

To what end is it for you?

The day of the Lord is darkness, and not light

Read verses twenty one and twenty two

God himself is saying these verses!”

I didn’t want to read anything else

Just tears poured out whenever I considered

You were the light and the way they only read about

I couldn’t leave the post office 

I stayed parked far beyond my fifteen minute sign limit

Just weeping and praying

More weeping than praying though

Eventually I went to work and didn’t accomplish much

Because I was thinking about your smile and your cursive notes

What an incredible sight to behold

Such a sincere and childlike faith

Not even the most severe tempests of life could loosen your grip

“Hate the evil, and love the good

And establish judgment in the gate

It may be that the Lord God of hosts will be gracious unto the remnant of Joseph

The prudent shall keep silence in that time

For it is an evil time”

You held on to the very end through an evil time

Which began when he divorced you for another

I wasn’t in a good place to know any better at that time

So please forgive me

And recovery without you was much needed

But now that nearly two decades have passed

All I could recall from him was the mantra

You were to blame, not him

You ruined everything

He needed a secretary

You were demon possessed 

You were the problem

He needed a virtuous wife and never had one

You abandoned him

You were not merely ill

Because illness wasn’t a just enough ground for him

Yet from what the Sheriff mentioned over the phone

According to others in Aberdeen, you were still known to be mentally ill

And in ways just like I remember you being

But that simple, sincere smile of yours still catches me off guard

And your handwritten notes still overwhelm me 

You remained filled with the faith of a child all these years

“Seek good, and not evil, that ye may live

And so the Lord the God of hosts shall be with you”

Yet I had no way of knowing this sincere faith of yours all these years

Because you were nowhere to be found

You were remembered as the self proclaimed victim and martyr, abandoned and unloved

And no one taught us how to consider some validity to that

Tears just pour out because I now realize

You were the light and the way they only read about

Anamnesis (my wings part one)

I remember my first thought being about a can of soup

Everything changed with my birth

Or was it a shot?

 The docs were oblivious and Merck never made a peep

I remember the sandwich bags

The drenched vivas

Flies in window sills

Roadkill and raindrops spreading disease

I remember a holy man driving our Sunday route ahead of us

Just to remove diabolical obstacles 

So we could make it on time

And spare us all your bitching and carwashing 

I remember covering my face from fumes 

The greasy plaid couch pillows

The lysol spraying

The chlorine cleansing

I remember the eyes closed

The wiping of faucets

The crossing a brass fluted transition

The holes you burned in carpets to save the kosmos

I remember the video games and chips and soda

The weight gain

The weight loss

The bitching about a brother stolen

I remember the money borrowed from dad's wallet

Traded for cartons of newports and camels

So you could look him in the eye

Saying truthfully it wasn't you

I remember the sleeping all day

The shopping

The hoarding

The careless starch flamethrower that looked "nice"

I remember which one were you that day

You'd leave randomly

You'd return randomly

You'd smirk and bitch and provoke

I remember it takes 45 minutes to microwave a frozen lasagna

You never prepared meals for us

Dad pressure cooked chicken and boiled brussel sprouts

Peace and quiet was at Boston Chicken

I remember you never really cleaned

You never educated

You never really cared

Until it was always too late

I remember the blinds closed in every room

During the missionary trip to South Africa

The pensive panic with little kids

Bitching back at you to let us pay our water bill

Which one of you cared afterward?

For years I wished one of you cared about me

I searched but never found her

She never tried to reach me either

It took decades to wish that one would find me

Had I been found within the last few years

We would have taken care of her

I wanted her to know them anyway

But it's not all bad news I'm remembering

I also remember that God became what we are

So that we could become what He is

Including every one of you, who was no guardian angel

Since God is the one who vindicates

Who is the one who condemns you now

If He who is risen knew you and loved you most

Sandwich bags and all

For Cyril Methodius

O God of all spirits and of all flesh, Who have destroyed death, overcome the Devil, and given life to the world, grant, O Lord, to the soul of Your servant, Cyril Methodius, who has departed from this life, that he may rest in a place of light, in a place of happiness, in a place of peace, where there is no pain, no grief, no sighing. And since You are a gracious God and the Lover of Mankind, forgive him every sin he has committed by thought, word, or deed, for there is not a man who lives and does not sin: You alone are without sin, Your justice is everlasting, and Your word is true. You are the Resurrection and the Life and the Repose of Your departed servant, Cyril, O Christ our God, and we render glory to You, together with Your Eternal Father, and Your All-holy, good and life-giving Spirit, now and ever and unto the ages of ages.

Amen.

May his memory be eternal. 

Loss of Face

O God, turn us around

And show your face

And we will be saved

Not from death

But from its sting

This madness of our own making

We see all around us

Crucifying them for teaching

Truths are reliabilities over time

Chasing false hopes

Of corpses rising from graves

And bones receiving flesh again

Of etherealities unto ages of ages

At the so-called end of time 

Of unspeakables and unfathomables 

Venting up and beyond distant galaxies

Of intellections and pneumaticities 

Merely interceding for us

Before the anointed appearance 

Certainly no skies had joined land yet

The first had to flee from his face

After the ascension

The aeons rushed 

Toward Armageddon

Toward Vindication 

The goal was festal sabbath 

No one was raised out of the dead ones

While Hades and Thanatos still held keys

To the gate of a bottomless pit 

And the lake was still a place yet to come

For those who refused to look upon your face

Over time we can rely upon the true hope of our past

That the Mount has been exalted above the plain

Death and Hell were tossed into perdition 

Their righteous dead already raised

This terra firma etherealized

The saints dwell amongst us

Turning us around 

Showing us your face

Saving us, O God

Mother of Glory

Today the holy living ark of the living God, 

the one who carried her own Maker within herself, 

comes to her rest in the temple of the Lord not made by hands. 

David, her intercessor and God's, leaps for joy

the angles join in the dance

the archangels applaud

the virtues give praise

the principalities rejoice with them

the powers exult

the dominations delight

the thrones make festival

the cherubim sing their hymn

and the seraphim glorify God. 

They glorify Him in no negligible way, when they give glory to the mother of Glory. 

Today the sacred dove, 

the pure and innocent soul who was also purified by the Holy Spirit, 

has flown from the ark 

(I mean from that body which received God and is the source of our life)

and she has found a place of rest for her feet, 

flying up to the intelligible world 

and pitching her tent in the spotless land of our heritage on high. 

Today the Eden of the new Adam welcomes the spiritual paradise 

where our condemnation has been cancelled, 

where the tree of life is planted, 

where our nakedness is clothed again. 

For we are no longer naked and exposed, 

lacking the radiance of the divine image 

and stripped of the abundant favor of the Spirit.

We need no longer tell the story of that tragic, ancient nakedness, saying, 

"I have taken off my tunic, and how shall I put it on again?"1

For in this paradise the serpent has no means of entry, 

that serpent whose false promise of divinization led us to a covetousness 

that made us the equal only of irrational beasts. 

The only Son of God, 

who is God and of the same substance as the Father, 

formed himself into a human being from this virgin, 

from this pure soil.

And so I, who am human, am made divine. 

I, who am mortal, have now become immortal, 

and have stripped off my tunic of skin. 

For I have taken off corruption, 

and put on the robe of divinity. 

Today the immaculate Virgin, 

who never involved herself in earthly passions 

but was nourished on heavenly thoughts, 

did not return to earth. 

Being truly a living heaven, 

she now dwells in the tents of heaven. 

For who could err in calling her heaven, 

unless one were to say, and say rightly, 

that she has been lifted even above heaven in her incomparable privileges? 

For the maker and preserver of heaven 

and of everything in and beyond this universe, 

the craftsman of all that has been made, 

visible and invisible, 

He who has no place, 

because He is the place of all other beings 

(if, indeed, place is defined as what contains the things within it) 

He has created a child in her, 

of His own power and without human seed, 

and has revealed her as the spacious treasure-house of that Divinity that fills all things, 

alone and uncircumscribed. 

He has gathered Himself up completely in her, 

without suffering diminution, 

yet He remains wholly beyond her, 

abiding in Himself as His incomprehensible home. 

***

Let the heavens rejoice now, 

and the angels applaud! 

Let the earth be glad now, 

and all men and women leap for joy! 

Let the air ring out now with happy song, 

and let the black night lay aside its gloomy, unbecoming cloak of darkness, 

to imitate the bright radiance of day in sparkles of flame!

For the living city of the Lord God of hosts is lifted up, 

and kings bring a priceless gift from the temple of the Lord, 

the wonder of Zion, 

to the Jerusalem on high 

who is free and is their mother: 

those who were appointed by Christ as rulers of all the earth, the Apostles, 

escort to heaven the ever-virgin mother of God!2

1. Canticles 5:3
2. An excerpt from a homily by St John of Damascus, on the Dormition of Mary

Thabor and Hermon Rejoice at Your Name

Today things that cannot be heard are heard by human ears; for the visible human being is attested to be Son of God: unique, beloved, of the same substance. 

The witness cannot deceive, the proclamation is true; for the very Father who got him utters the proclamation himself. 

Let David stand as witness, and strike the lyre of the Spirit that speaks God's words. 

Let him sing the message now, more clearly and precisely, which the foresaw of old, as from a great distance, with purified eyes: the coming of the Word of God to us in flesh, as something yet to be, when he said, "Thabor and Hermon will shout for joy in your name."1

For this is the name above every name,2 over which Thabor and Hermon rejoice! 

This is my Son, the Beloved!3  

This is cause of rejoicing for all creation, this is a prize for humanity, a boast that will never be taken away! 

For the one to whom this witness is borne is a human being, even if he is not merely this! 

O joy, bestowed on us beyond all imagining! 

O blessedness here, beyond hope! 

O gifts of God, overcoming our desires! 

O graces, not given simply in response to modest demands! 

O generous giver, who have made a supernatural magnificence your own! 

O grace, befitting not so much the receiver as the giver! 

O mysterious covenants! 

O you who grant power and take on weakness! 

O you who reveal the human being as eternal, in that the eternal one begins to exist bodily as a creature! 

For if the human person is divinized, in that God is humanized, and the one God himself is revealed as also human, then the same individual, being human, is eternal in divinity, yet still, being God, begins to live in his humanity. 

-- St John of Damascus, Excerpt from a homily in celebration of the Transfiguration of the Lord

1.  Psalm 88:13
2.  Philippians 2:9
3.  Matthew 17:5

Priests of LMGTFY Culture

Who can get whom to do what with their bodies?

Take

Eat

From all the trees

But not this one

Remember lest ye forget

Indeterminate future manifestations abound

The goal is to discover

We call it mathematics for a reason

Hempel's ravens provide for us a clue

Knowing is a process, not an event

Their eyes were opened and they knew

They were advanced, but not scientific

We think we write our script

They actually do

It's now Us versus Them

Moderns or Primitives

Those of the Present or Past

Science or Tradition

Reason or Revelation

Jet sons or Flint stones

In their dispensation of the printing press

God became a book

In our dispensation of "Secret" in Swahili

Blogs become gods

Non-penetrative

Cyborgic extensions

Habituating their bodies to not know anything without the gods

Even to those long dead

That the Laws of Loving-kindness called Him even to them that had been long dead.

Now the laws of love summoned Him even as far as Death and the dead themselves, so that He might summon the souls of those who were long time dead. And so because He cared for the salvation of all for ages past, and that “He might bring to naught him that hath the power of death,”* as Scripture teaches, here again he underwent the dispensation in His mingled Natures: as Man, he left His Body to the usual burial, while as God He departed from it. For He cried with a loud cry, and said to the Father: “I commend my spirit,”* and departed from the body free, in no wise waiting for death, who was lagging as it were in fear to come to Him; nay, rather, He pursued him from behind and drove him on, trodden under His feet and fleeing, and He burst the eternal gates of his dark realms, and made a road of return back again to life for the dead there bound with the bonds of death. Thus, too, His own body was raised up, and many bodies of the sleeping saints arose, and came together with Him into the holy and real City of Heaven, as rightly is said by the holy words: “Death has prevailed and swallowed men up”; and again: “The Lord God has taken away every tear from every face.”*

And the Saviour of the Universe, our Lord, the Christ of God, called Victor, is represented in the prophetic predictions as reviling death, and releasing the souls that are bound there, by whom He raises the hymn of victory, and He says these words:

“From the hand of Hades I will save them, and from death I will ransom their souls.¹* O Death, where is thy victory?² O Death, where is thy sting? The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law.”³

Such was the dispensation that brought Him even unto death, of which one that wishes to seek for the cause, can find not one reason but many. For firstly, the Word teaches by His death that He is Lord both of dead and living; and secondly, that He will wash away our sins, being slain, and becoming a curse for us; thirdly, that a victim of God and a great sacrifice for the whole world might be offered to Almighty God; fourthly, that thus He might work out the destruction of the deceitful powers of the dæmons by unspeakable words; and fifthly also, that shewing the hope of life with God after death to His friends and disciples not by words only by deeds as well, and affording ocular proof of His message, He might make them of good courage and more eager to preach both to Greeks and Barbarians the holy polity which He had established. And so at once He filled with His own divine power those very friends and followers, whom He had selected for Himself on account of their surpassing all, and had chosen as His apostles and disciples,⁴ that they might teach all races of men His message of the knowledge of God, and lay down one way of religion for all the Greeks and Barbarians; a way which announced the defeat and rout of the dæmons, and the check of polytheistic error, and the true knowledge of the one Almighty God, and which promised forgiveness of sins before committed, if men no longer continued therein, and one hope of salvation to all by the all-wise and all-good polity that He had instituted.5

* Heb. 2:14.

* Luke 23:46.

* Isa. 25:8.

¹ LXX: αὐτούς..

* Hos. 13:14; 1 Cor 15:55.

² ἡ δίκη σου.

³ “Eusebius prophetam in parte, et in parte aposlolum sequitur.”—Gaisford.

⁴ θιασώτας: so for “disciple” in Lucian: Fugit. 4; Themist. 33 c.

5 Everything posted above is taken from: Eusebius of Cæsarea. (1920). The Proof of the Gospel: Being the Demonstratio  Evangelica of Eusebius of Caesarea. (W. J. Sparrow-Simpson & W. K. L. Clarke, Eds., W. J. Ferrar, Trans.) (Vol. 1, Bk. IV, Ch. 12, pp. 186–187). London; New York: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge; The Macmillan Company.

Pathways to Immaturity

One man writes a story

The surrounding tribe rises to the occasion

To drill into

To warn others about

They must save the world

As guardians of the galaxy

Prophets commissioned to bear the good news

That their story is the only true story

And they aren’t alone

They have a whole tradition that reaches way, way back

A whole five hundred years

Or slightly more

Even more important 

Is their book

God is there

God is everywhere

But especially there

As guardians of the good news

They protect God from all opposition

Tearing down every stronghold

And every philosophy

And empty deceit

As guardians of God

One word says one thing

But they know their great scary book has more words than one

To pick out and shove into the conversation

Or better yet

To shove in front of the conversation

So as to protect all the innocents

From all unapproved conversation

Misleading them into darkness

Sliding them down the backward path of human tradition

They know the one in whom the fulness of deity dwells bodily

They know the circumcision of Christ

As guardians of the head of all rule and authority

They must bind their nobles with fetters of iron

To freely instruct the blind

To graciously feed the hungry

The whole clan must not become divided 

Or else one mans story will prevail