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Faithful Skeptic

(x = space)

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Faithful Skeptic

(spiritual humanist)

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I sin

And then I go to church

How does that work?

We sing that it is well,

Which Saint Julian proposes

We pray for the world

And for concerns

In the parish

We sing some more

We’ll pray some more

Then there will be teaching

(word and sacrament

for those who have sacraments)

Through it all,

We’re singing now

And thank goodness there is

Justice in that

Mingled with grace and mercy

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Through sin and virtue

Through indifference and zeal

Through exhaustion and desire

There is something

Going on,

Something moving

Call it spirit

Call it the orbit of the Earth

And the pressing down of gravity

Call it God’s

Call it nature’s

Call it ours

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And, yes, through it all

It is well

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C L Couch

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Saint Julian of Norwich is a saint in the Catholic, Anglican, and Lutheran churches.  Other traditional Protestant churches recognize her standing.  Many Christians of all kinds respect her work in parish service and the service of the Christian Church, overall.  Her name is not known:  she is called Julian because that was the name of the church in Norwich, England where she lived.  She had a cell there, not a jail cell but a hermit’s.  She had a cat.  Each day people of the town would come to her to speak with her through a window, asking her for wisdom and advice.  I’m sorry, I should have mentioned that she lived and worked from the latter decades of the fourteenth century into the first years of the fifteenth century.

She wrote Revelations of Divine Love, a widely-read spiritual text.  It is also taken as the oldest book written in English by a woman.  Two things Julian is popularly known for asserting are the metaphor of the world as a hazelnut (long before William Blake asserted perceiving the world as and through a grain of sand).  And she claimed that, no matter how grim or unhopeful or destructive the world might seem, all shall be well.  She says this many times.

And all shall be well.

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Photo by Külli Kittus on Unsplash

Tallinn, Estonia

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Istanbul

(x = space)

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Istanbul

(Yankee perspective)

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How colorful the lamps

For sale in the bazaar

I’m not sure how their talents

Transliterate back home

Where so much

Is right-angled

And pastel

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One lamp of these lamps

Could shine over

Our obligatory book of a thousand tales

If not a treatise on the origin

Of mathematics

Or astronomy,

Right knowledge

That made protraction possible

Right angles

As well as acute, obtuse

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A world worked out

Until the rough-edged stories

Like the roc that swallows interlopers

In the lore

Come to roost

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C L Couch

(Yankee)

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Tell the Beadle

(x = space)

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Tell the Beadle

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I had church today with friends

Five hundred miles from here,

And I am thankful

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I’m not sure what it means or

How it counts, and I guess mostly

I don’t care

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There was prayer and conversation,

And God was mentioned many

Times and Jesus

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I think if there were an attendance

Book, our names could be

Fairly entered

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As it is, computers have recorded

In theirs pathways our participation so

Cybernetic stars

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C L Couch

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Sayq, Ad Dakhiliyah ‍Governorate, Oman

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Frozen Yellow Rose

(x = space)

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Frozen Yellow Rose

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Is this a prose-poem or an essay or a Sunday homily (the text would be the Good Samaritan)?  I don’t know, but here it is.  Something I heard at church from those who were there.  I mean, were there in Houston.

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here’s what happened in Houston (Texas, USA) yesterday:

most homes do not have fireplaces and instead rely on electricity to power furnaces for heat and appliances for cooking and computers, but the power grid is out, it’s blank in Houston;

in grills or in makeshift places, Duralogs were burned and any wood that could be found or any charcoal left from summer or, indeed in a deep Southern place, the last time there was a barbecue;

the feeling was post-apocalyptic

there was a certain grocery store that powered up enough generators to preserve food and to allow people inside safely, though the numbers who could enter at a time were severely limited (because there is a pandemic raging ‘round the world and through Houston); this meant that there were thousands outside the store in line, waiting for their turn;

keep in mind it’s extra winter there just now, the temperature having gone into the teens during the day;

the manager of this grocery store or maybe it was the owner, walked up and down the line outside and said to folks, if you can’t pay for your groceries just now, don’t worry—get what your family needs, bread and baby food and such;

according to those who were there, this kind of thing was happening all over the city

coda

this does not account or provide sustenance for those assailed by the crisis of collapsing glacial ice in India that has stolen the lives of scores of people; this does not take care of COVID-19 or provide vaccine, something that the world sorely needs; this does not answer all the problems and frankly all the disasters that we suffer with here and there on planet Earth; it is a single story, and maybe we could let it have the power of a single story, which like creation stories or apocalypses or “The Gift of the Magi” or “The Artist of the Beautiful,” can be, well, pretty powerful

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C L Couch

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Power Failure: How a Winter Storm Pushed Texas into Crisis

https://www.houstonchronicle.com/news/article/Power-failure-How-a-winter-storm-pushed-Texas-15967411.php

Around 2 a.m. Monday, the full measure of the crisis Texas faced began to be apparent. Cold and ice had set in the day before, leading to spreading power outages across the state.

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Photo by Vlad Busuioc on Unsplash

Downtown, Houston, Texas, United States

drone view of a city

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Sabbath Invitationing

(x = space)

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Sabbath Invitationing

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We meet God outside,

Invite God into church

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God might come

But there is busyness

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God means it—

We don’t know what to say

Except Thank you

Then move inside

With something like

Haste

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Why should we feel guilty?

We invited God to church

And God said no,

Well, said maybe after

Busyness

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We’re not sure

We see the lesson here

Or anything prescriptive

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We can take it up

At lunch after, certainly

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By the time we go to church again

In case God

Is there again

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C L Couch

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Photo by laura adai on Unsplash

Trentino-Alto Adige, Italia

summit

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Exegete the Rocket Ship

(x = space)

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Exegete the Rocket Ship

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The shortest verse

Is Jesus wept

My favorite one is Help my unbelief

And then the verses about

A heart created clean

By God,

Presuming that means re-cleaned

As well

Doubt and renewal

Sorry, they’re important

I think we need them

Though, yes, I’ll speak mostly

For myself

When it comes to meeting means

For spirit and or in the flesh

The realms where we dwell

Without preference

Or will

We simply are in these

And must do our best,

Which can be exciting

On our planet buzzing through the universe

Of lithesome opportunity

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C L Couch

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“Axel Tschentscher,” CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=83143301

Church of the Holy Ghost in Bern. This is the spire in evening light with a clear view of the 4000-meter peaks of the mountains Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau.

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Beadling

(x = space)

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Beadling

(pandemic time)

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It’s Sunday

I thought it was Saturday

Maybe you’re having this problem, too

So I should think church

(good Catholic or Protestant

Christian)

And I do

Though I don’t think I’ll go

Until the year of doing nothing

Has expired

Nothing but science and care

I do what I can

Pray for them

Send bits of money

Wait

Wish it were all over

For the living to be living

More fully

Perhaps more mindfully

Again

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C L Couch

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(a beadle, church officer, bearing

a rod with a feather at one end and a heavy ball

or other weight at the other

not for adults do we spare the rod

depending on how deeply was the parishioner

snoozing, he or she got one end or the other)

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Photo by Evie S. on Unsplash

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See and Taste

See and Taste

(Psalm 34:8)

 

When there was communion,

Four times a year,

Small cups

Were distributed,

Clear and plastic

Warm to touch

 

I would take my cup,

Tilt its smallness just a little in my favor

To see four lights reflected

Four yellow dots floating

In and as

Four corners

A square inside a circle

 

One dot for God

One for Jesus, for the Holy Spirit,

And for me

And when I’d turn the plastic cup

Those little lights would merge

To make an errant twirl,

An artwork of gold

 

A swirl on top

A small pool of grape juice

At room temperature,

As if to say

 

Even to the child,

We’re all in this together

You’ve eaten, now drink

And with us

Seal the season

Outside, inside

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Erica Viana on Unsplash

São Paulo, SP, Brasil

 

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Such and Such a Church in Louisville, Kentucky

Such a Church in Louisville, Kentucky

 

I hope it is still there

The black church I attended Sunday morning

Louisville in 1983

We were the only white folk there

The service went for hours (yes, it did)

And we were made so welcome

I’d like to have stayed for hours more

For Presbyterians, there was a lot of moving

 

Clapping and the singing was fantastic

Because they meant it

(it was tuneful, too)

The praying must have gone straight to heaven

Having made faithful conduits

Such an ordinary feature

 

We would have more meetings

Take our leave and go our separate ways

But we were together, then

Sinews in a toned body of

A holy congregation ‘round the world

When such people meet for such a purpose

Holy, holy, holy

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Akira Hojo on Unsplash

Reykjavík, Iceland

 

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