Psalm Writing, Poetry, and the Soul

Last night at my parish we had Ray McGinnis lead a workshop on Psalm writing and journaling. I was reminded of how powerful poetry can be in stirring the soul. In one exercise, Ray had us take a list of phrases and use them to write a personal psalm. Some people used several of the phrases, some started with one and took off from there, and others ran with a theme inspired from the words shared. People who thought they couldn't write much were turning words that revealed a depth of soul and you could feel it in the room. After many people shared what they had written, one woman commented that she felt as though she had been to worship. Indeed, there was a sense of the Holy as people shared words that revealed their own searching and finding.
Look through the Psalms and find those phrases that might shape a personal psalm.

Suggestions include:

I waited patiently

You go before me

Bones grow weak

I cry aloud to God

Over the waters

Myself a sanctuary

Ancient doors

Like a bird to the mountains

Look at me and answer

Like the feet of a deer

In the morning

. . . and you can find your own. Let the familiar phrases shape in you a response to God. Let the power of images and words awake the soul.

Peace,

John Mark

Good Friday: The Wall Test

The Wall Test

When they say "To the wall!"

and the squad does a right turn,

where do you stand? With the squad

or the man against the wall?

In every case

you find yourself standing against the wall.

-Louis Simpson

On Good Friday, Christians around the world contemplate the crucifixion of Christ. An odd thing if you think about it, especially considering that Christians also claim that Christ was raised from the dead. Why dwell on the death?

Death is real, and Christianity doesn't shy away from that (at least in principle.)The Louis Simpson poem above speaks to what Good Friday is all about. We don't look back on the crucifixion as something that happened 2000 years ago that we will someday reap some benefit from. We know Good Friday in the ways that humans live together. We know what it is to be blindfolded against the wall, and we know what is to be the executioner.

I hesitate to elaborate anymore as the poem is enough. However, I caution against seeing this is a moment only to consider the cross and wallow in our responsibility for it. Even more, know that God goes to the wall. Every time we are against the wall having lost it all, God is there. Even when we scapegoat others and become executioner, God is there. God knows.

Having been against the wall, Christ empowers us to tear it down. Maybe Good Friday isn't only about losing it all, but also about all the junk we cling to so tightly.