Sunday, August 06, 2006

Beautiful Disaster

I've been thinking about this passage lately:

The Parable of the Weeds

He put another parable before them, saying, "The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a man who sowed good seed in his field, but while his men were sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared also.
And the servants of the master of the house came and said to him, 'Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? How then does it have weeds?'
He said to them, 'An enemy has done this.'
So the servants said to him, 'Then do you want us to go and gather them?'
But he said, 'No, lest in gathering the weeds you root up the wheat along with them. Let both grow together until the harvest, and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Gather the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.'"

Matthew 13: 24-30


I'm not going to lie to you; the last three months have been damn hard. They have come on the tail end of two ferociously painful years. The fire in our apartment, throwing us into another state of homeless confusion, has felt, at times, like an absurd joke.
So, I've been looking around. I've been listening.
I've heard the stories of friends and cancer, of children sliced open, of unbeaten addictions, of loneliness, of failures of the Church, of broken relationships, of circles of abuse, of shattered hearts bleeding into shattered lives, of love dried up, of hope diminished, of early death and,

Oh,
my
God?

This world is not fit for the living.

But still, somehow, there is hot sun, in a patch, on the carpet. There is the smell of brewing coffee. There are friends in new love and first kisses and "I'm pregnant!" There are shelves of books and long drives with the music so loud and the crazy girl singing her heart out with her daughter dancing in her car seat. There are kindnesses offered, grace supplied, tentative hopes, true words, beauty, forgiveness and,

Oh,
my
God,

The earth is full of your glory.

Oh, breakable people, with your skin that bleeds and lungs that rattle, dig in deep. Anchor in. Because you float, over this ground, for a breath and are gone. But the breath can be so ragged and the thistles like knives, and the rain can feel like pouring gold and the black earth taste like a feast.

Take hold, take heart.
This is not your home.

15 comments:

Unknown said...

Oh, breakable people, with your skin that bleeds and lungs that rattle, breathe in deep. And balloon up beyond the wind song into the belly of the garden of the stars. And pick one now to hold and touch and smile with it as it sits there, in love. And your lungs that rattle calm now into the soft rise of kitten bellies. (thankyou)

Angela said...

kitten bellies.
that made me smile all day long.

j.h. said...

that post made me breathe a sigh of relief. thanks for those words(your own words), I haven't been able to find them often, or lately.

Anonymous said...

I have been wondering lately about humans and why it is that they spend so much of their lives unsatisfied and disgruntled. I've been thinking about this passage:

22 And he said unto his disciples, Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat; neither for the body, what ye shall put on.
23 The life is more than meat, and the body is more than raiment.
24 Consider the ravens: for they neither sow nor reap; which neither have storehouse nor barn; and God feedeth them: how much more are ye better than the fowls?
25 And which of you with taking thought can add to his stature one cubit?
26 If ye then be not able to do that thing which is least, why take ye thought for the rest?
27 Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
28 If then God so clothe the grass, which is to day in the field, and to morrow is cast into the oven; how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little faith?
29 And seek not ye what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, neither be ye of doubtful mind.
30 For all these things do the nations of the world seek after: and your Father knoweth that ye have need of these things.
31 But rather seek ye the kingdom of God; and all these things shall be added unto you.
Luke 12. 22-31
Mathew 6. 25-34


Sadness entered the world with you. You are Sad. Why are you so sad? I think it is because you are never satisfied with what you have. You are always looking at the glass and it is always on its way to emptiness- never on its good way to completion. That is what God is to the ravens that I know: God is the way to completion. Yet, when we look at humans you are always more concerned with looking back, looking DOWN into your glass feeling ever closer to an end of your own fabrication rather than looking about and saying, "Hey, there is still more wine here to be drank." Or, better yet, "Tomorrow there will be more! Thanks be to God!!!" You are a pathetic species. Sad, pathetic and spoiled. Be happy with what you have today. Today is beautiful.

Angela said...

dear raven,

ok, so i was talking over your comment with my good friend, king david, and the good news is that i think i've convinced him not to hunt you down and eat you. he was right mad about your inference that expressing grief was ungodly and indicative of not trusting god. man! he was so upset. he went on and on about catching that "fool of a human who taught you to speak before teaching you compassion." he went so far as to pull out that ratty old harp of his and begin to compose a maskil, but it was kind of late and i think i convinced him to have a glass of wine and go to bed.

still, i might keep an eye out. he's a tricky old king with a taste for the absurd.

Angela said...

joel,
you're welcome.
i'm sorry about the silences. they're frightening.

Anonymous said...

ravens, angela's response was far too kind. if i knew who you were, i'd fly to you and swing a right fist of righteousness into your teeth. maybe i'd repent later.

for god's sake, and i mean that literally, please shut the hell up next time you want to make yourself appear wise on occasion of someone else's good and right grieving.

if you'd like to talk, call me. 9013380442

Anonymous said...

I think I'm going to ask Jesus about that whole "man-of-sorrows-high-priest-who-sympathizes-with-us" thing and see if it's all a sham...
yeesh kadeesh!!! We are called not to sin in our different emotions, but He made us to HAVE emotions and to FEEL. This is what makes us human and what makes us cling to Him...

Anonymous said...

I love how you bring words to life, words form the bible which often seem dusty to me came alive tonight as I read your blog, how true that God asks us to live with the weeds and wheat for now and in time harvest will come. So often I get too worried about getting rid of the weeds and need to be reminded it is not my job.

Anonymous said...

Dear raven,
How cruel a Christain tongue can be. I love my Lord and reading you comment made my cheeks flood with red. How embarrassed am I to be categorized into the same faith as your reckless tounge. Have you ever had your heart so broken you thought it next to impossible to put it back together?Brokeness and true deep sorrow needs love and compassion. Salt is for seasoning food not rubbing in you sisters wounds.

Angela said...

awwww...
i thank you.
king david thanks you.
nice people thank you.

ha. phone you. you're a funny guy.
thanks, friend.

Anonymous said...

just in case of any confusion, i meant for raven to call if he needed a talking to.

j.h. said...

I guess someone forgot to tell that guy that a half-full glass is still half empty. And to capitalize on a bad metaphor: the full half is always the bottom half. Unless you're drinking out a lava lamp...nevermind.

here's to the entire glass, sorrow and beauty.

j.h. said...

p.s. would you mind if i ever used some of your words in a song? you'd get to hear it-promise.

Angela said...

hey, don't worry. i'm not calling. can you imagine? THAT would be funny! ohhh haa haa.
come on, admit. it would be funny.

joel, make me famous kid
(and thanks)