An Open Letter to Congress - Part II


​The United States of America has long been seen as a beacon of hope and freedom, a “shining city upon the hill,” as John Winthrop described it. Yet, in recent years, the nation's immigration policies have come under scrutiny, with many advocating for reform that addresses both border security and the needs of those seeking refuge within the country's borders.
 
The flow of illegal drugs across the border is a serious issue that must be addressed. It has contributed to a devastating opioid epidemic and increased crime and violence in communities across the country.   Fentanyl is a synthetic opioid that is 50-100 times stronger than morphine.

The responsibility of Congress to act in a bipartisan fashion to address this issue cannot be overstated. The need for common-sense solutions that balance ensuring national security and respecting immigrants' rights cannot be ignored.  Congress must act now!
 
It is equally important to recognize the United States' moral obligation as a free world leader to assist those seeking refuge from economic hardships or the devastating effects of climate change. As Martin Buber wrote, “The hour of the world, of all the world, is the hour of our compassion.” The United States must not repeat our past mistakes when the nation failed to grant aid and comfort to refugees during World War II and dehumanized them as a people.
 
With this sense of urgency and compassion, Congress must act to introduce and pass immigration reform legislation that prioritizes border security while also aiding those in need. The nation must live up to its reputation as a “shining city upon the hill” and set a high example for the rest of the world in terms of how it treats those seeking refuge and a better life.

Holding hearings and grilling Department of Homeland Security executives and staff produces little results, and fails to create the partnerships we need. Harsh political rhetoric and attacks offers the American people no value. The best leaders great opportunities for partnership and progress. This is what the American people need from Congress today, now, immediately. The grandstanding and interrogations in congressional-committee hearings needs to be transformed into position actions.
 
Immigration reform and border security are complex and multifaceted issues that require the collective efforts of the entire nation. Congress must act in a bipartisan way to address these global issues, guided by a sense of urgency and a moral obligation to assist those in need. The United States must continue to strive towards a future where it upholds its reputation as a beacon of hope and freedom and serves as a shining example for the rest of the world.

Congress must act now, without hesitation or rancor, and without enmity and caustic rhetoric to gain cheap political points from their electoral base. As Jewish philosopher, Martin Buber once wrote, “The only answer to evil is good.” In this context, the U.S. must approach immigration reform and border security with a greater sense of urgency, compassion, and common sense.  This means recognizing the root causes of immigration, including economic hardship and the effects of climate change, and responding with a moral obligation to assist those fleeing these conditions.
 
In writing about our “I and Thou” relationship with God and creation: Martin Buber gives us this sacred admonishment when considering our place, our communities, our relationships, and our responsibilities within the world and across creation. 
 
“We must hear the message, stark and un-transfigured, which is delivered to “us” out of this hour, presented by this situation as it arrives. — And “we” must answer, by what “we” do and do not do, “we” must accept and answer for the hour, the hour of the world, of all the world, as that which is given to us, entrusted to us.
 
Reduction is forbidden; we are not at liberty to select what suits us, the whole cruel hour is at stake, the whole claims us, and we must answer — God.”

• George W. Bush Institute on Immigration 

​

 
PART I
An Open Letter to…
Senator John Cornyn & Senator Ted Cruz
And to the 118th United States Congress
Members of the House & Senate
 
 
“We can succeed only by concert. . . . The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present.  The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise — with the occasion.  As our case is new, so we must think anew, and act anew.  We must disenthrall ourselves, and then we shall save our country.
 
Fellow-citizens, we cannot escape history.  We of this Congress and this administration, will be remembered in spite of ourselves.  No personal significance, or insignificance, can spare one or another of us.  The fiery trial through which we pass, will light us down, in honor or dishonor, to the latest generation.” — Abraham Lincoln's, December 1, 1862, Annual Message to Congress.
 
Congress must act to pass immigration & asylum reform and enhance border security significantly.  Both efforts are critical.  It is time for Congress to work together in a bipartisan fellowship to address this issue.  It is past time.  Do not let the ugly partisan politics of the day or moment discourage you from this cause.
 
Reasonable minds must take appropriate actions; the harsh rhetoric and dysfunctional politics must stop in Congress.  In a bipartisan effort, CONGRESS must now take up immigration & asylum reform and border security to manage the latest humanitarian crisis.  Unfortunately, members of Congress across both parties have used immigration issues for decades to gain political points.
 
It has become unreasonable not to consider reasonable bipartisan actions.  Congress must act.  Democratic and Republican lawmakers have failed for decades to create a functioning immigration system.  The inflammatory rhetoric, ugly speech, open hostility, and enmity must cease.  You must meet upon the level and the square to do your best. Please do what you were sent to Washington to do: legislate and govern.
 
The Department of Homeland Security is straining to manage a new influx of migrants.  They need more funding, resources, technology, and facilities that only Congress can approve.  Congress needs to act immediately.  They can no longer ignore these issues out of political inconvenience, passing on the responsibility to each Presidential administration and blaming whoever sits in the White House or DHS from either party.
 
American citizens deserve better governance from Congress.  As a whole, Americans must seek the support and action of Congress and hold them accountable for any inaction.  We need effective and responsible leaders to step up and lead through bipartisan efforts that take the country beyond all political motivations.
 
Building walls along the border will never work in a world where mass migrations are driven by economic inequity and climate change.  Walls will not stop the flow of illegal drugs causing an epidemic of deaths across America.  Instead, we need a higher level of sophisticated technology and more resources to protect the border.  In addition, we need to make Marshal Plan investments in the home countries of migrants so that they can live safely and securely within their country’s borders, offering them opportunities at home.
 
And we must write and pass reasonable legislation to address immigration and asylum reform.  Finally, we must create a path for Dreamers, educated in America at American schools, colleges, and universities.  The talents of Dreamers must not be wasted and lost; they are Americans and part of America's future.  For the nation's sake, you must act now, for taking no action is unacceptable to the nation.  Nor should the last administration's intentionally cruel policies and actions be repeated; they are anathema to who we are as a people of faith and as Americans.  We must disenthrall ourselves from this past.


Sincerely,
 
Ron Starbuck
Publisher – CEO
Saint Julian Press, Inc.
Houston, Texas 77008
 
http://www.saintjulianpress.com/index.html
 

George W. Bush Institute on Immigration 

​

December 29th is the Fifth Day of Christmas. In the Episcopal Church and Greater Anglican Communion, it is a lesser feast and fast day celebrating Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, who was martyred in 1170.
 
“BECKET’ or “The Honour of God” is a play originally written by Jean Anouilh, with the  screenplay by Edward Anhalt. The play tells the story of the tumultuous relationship between King Henry II and his friend-turned-adversary, Thomas Becket. The play explores themes of friendship, loyalty, power, and the conflict between individual conscience and societal expectations.
 
In 1964 the screenplay written by Edward Anhalt was made into a successful film starring Peter O'Toole and Richard Burton with John Gielgud, Donald Wolfit, and Martita Hunt. Edward Anhalt wrote additional scenes for the film. Anhalt won an Academy Award for his screenplay. In  my senior year of high school, I presented parts of the play as a dramatic interpretation for a drama class assignment.

Throughout the play, both Becket and Henry II struggle with the desire for power and the responsibilities that come with it. For Becket, his rise to the position of Archbishop is marked by a series of personal and moral struggles as he grapples with the demands of his faith and the expectations of the King. Similarly, Henry II is torn between his desire to assert his authority as a ruler and his love for Becket, his former friend, and advisor.
 
His relationship with the King tests Becket's loyalty to the Church and God, and he ultimately must choose between the two. Similarly, Henry II is faced with the dilemma of balancing his loyalty to Becket with his duty to the Crown and the needs of the state. The play portrays the ongoing struggle between the church and state for power and influence. The tension between Becket and Henry II is a microcosm of this more significant conflict in today's society, as the two men represent the opposing forces of spiritual authority and temporal power. And how we too often blur America’s separation of church and state. As an allegory for the 21st century, the play provides an insightful view. The dialogue throughout the play is powerful and poignant.  There is a tragic sense of sadness and grief at play, which questions and reveals the complexity of our human emotions.



BECKET
The Honour of God

Play by Jean Anouilh
Screenplay by Edward Anhalt
Anhalt won an Academy Award for his screenplay.
Dialogue from the screenplay.


HENERY II & THOMAS BECKET 

(men singing in Latin)
(bell ringing)
(chanting in Latin)

Well, Thomas Becket, are you satisfied?
Here I am stripped, kneeling at your tomb
while those treacherous Saxon monks
of yours are getting ready to thrash me.
Me, with my delicate skin.
I bet you'd never have done the same for me.
But I suppose I have to do this penance and make my peace with you.
Hmm. What a strange end to our story.
How cold it was when we
last met on the shores of France.
Funny, it's nearly always been cold,
except at the beginning when we were friends.
We did have a few fine summer
evenings with the girls.
Did you love Gwendolen,
Archbishop?
Did you hate me the night
I took her from you, shouting,
"I am the king"?
Perhaps that's what you
could never forgive me for.
Look at them lurking there, gloating.


Oh, Thomas, I'm ashamed
of this whole silly masquerade.
All right, so I've come here
​to make my peace with their Saxon hero,
because I need them now,
those Saxon peasants of yours.
Now I'll call them my sons,
as you wanted me to.
You taught me that, too.
You taught me everything.
Those were the happy times.
Do you remember?


​I made you a nobleman.
Why do you play at being my valet?
I'm your servant in the council chamber,
or here in the bath.
My Norman barons resent it.
They feel it's your Saxon way
of mocking their nobility.
Nobility lies in the man,
my prince, not in the towel.
Have you any idea how much
trouble I took to make you noble?
I think so. I recall you pointed a finger and said,
"Thomas Becket, you are noble."


The queen and your mother
became very agitated.
(chuckles)
They're always agitated.
No, I mean trouble from the barons.
They hate you, you know?
​Of course. One always hates what one wrongs.
When you Normans invaded England, you seized our Saxon land,
burned our Saxon homes, raped our Saxon sisters.
Naturally, you hate Saxons.


Don't include me. It was my great grandfather
William who was called "The Conqueror."
- I'm an old resident.
- I did not mean you.
Didn't you?
You know, when I took you
into my service,
everyone predicted you'd
put a knife in my back.
- And did you believe them?
- No. I assured them that
you were a man of honor
... and a collaborator.
That was accurate of you.
- How do you combine the two?
- My Lord?
Honor and collaboration.
I don't try.
I love good living,
and good living is Norman.


A NEW ARCHBISHOP

- Are you listening to me, Thomas?
- I'm listening, My Prince.
We need a new Archbishop of Canterbury.
I think there is a man we can rely on.
No matter who it is,
once the archbishop's miter is on his head,
he will not longer be on your side.
But if the archbishop is my man,
if Canterbury is for the king,
how could his power possibly get in my way?
My Lord, we know your bishops.
Once enthroned at Canterbury,
every one of them
will grow dizzy with power.
Not this man.
This is someone
who doesn't know
what dizziness means,
someone who isn't afraid of God.

​
I'm sorry to deprive you
of the French girls
and the other spoils of victory, but...
- Are you listening to me, Thomas?
- Mm-hmm.
- You're leaving for England tonight.
- On what mission, My Prince?
You are going to deliver
a letter to all the bishops of England.
Uh-huh. My royal edict nominating you,
Thomas Becket,
Primate of England,
Archbishop of Canterbury.

(laughing)

Shut up. Thomas, I'm in deadly earnest.
My Lord, don't do this.
You have an odd way of taking good news.
I should think you'd be triumphant.

But I... I'm not even a priest.
You're a deacon.
You can be ordained priest
and consecrated archbishop the next day.
Have you considered what the Pope would say?
I'll pay his price.
My Lord, this frightens me.
I thought you had God in
​the palm of your hand, Thomas.
I beg of you, do not do this.


BECKET BEFORE BECOMING ARCHBISHOP

Oh, no, Folliot.
I'm simply enjoying all of this.
I'm beginning to believe he's not
a sad God after all. Forgive me,
I fear my inexperienced methods
will never meet with your approval.
I know that you cast the only vote against me.
In the end I gave way to the king's wishes.
I don't blame your reluctance.
As Bishop of London and senior churchman,
you should've been archbishop.
Now to have to consecrate me instead
and place the miter on my head. I
have no choice. I'm only
performing my function as bishop.


I see you still wear the seal
of the King's Chancellor.
Yes. I will continue to wear it
- that and the archbishop's ring.
You do not find this inconsistent?
No. God is best served when
the two rest side by side in harmony.
These excessive acts of humility will not
compensate for subservience to the crown.
Thank you. We are both aware
of the delicacy of my position.
Let us trust that God will find a solution for it.


HENRY & BECKET

Becket, I'm bored.
My Prince, I wish I could help you.
What are you waiting for?
For the honor of God and the honor
of the king to become one.
That may take long.
Yes, that may take long.
I'm the King, Thomas,
and so long as we are on this earth,
you owe me the first move.
I'm prepared to forget a lot of things,
but not the fact that I am king.
- You yourself taught me that.
- Never forget it, My Prince.
You have a different task to do.
You have to steer the ship.
And you - what do you have to do?
To resist you with all my might
when you steer against the Lord God.
What do you expect of me then?
Are you hoping I'll weaken?
No. I'm afraid we must only do,
absurdly,
what it has been given to us to do
right to the end.


And I'm cold.
I feel cold, too... now.
You never loved me, did you,
Thomas?
Insofar as I was capable of love, yes, I did.
Did you start to love God?
You mule!
Answer a simple question!
Yes. I started to love
... the honor of God.
I should never have seen you.
It hurts too much.
- My Prince.
- No, no pity. It's dirty.
This is the last time I shall come
begging to you.
Go back to England.
Farewell, My Prince.
I sail tomorrow.
I know that I shall
never see you again.
How dare you say that
when I've given my royal word?


THE CONSECRATION VOWS

And now, since humility seems to be
a little hard on the knees,
I trust you will be comfortable
under our roof, My Lord Bishop.
Dear Lord,
I wish there was something
I really regretted parting with so that
I might offer it to you.
But forgive me, Lord.
It's like going on a holiday.
I've never enjoyed myself
so much in my whole life.

Lord,
are you sure you're not laughing at me?
It all seems far too easy.
(chanting in Latin)
It is a bishop's duty
to pass judgment,
to interpret,
to consecrate,
to ordain,
to offer sacrifice,
to baptize and to confirm.

Let us pray, beloved brother.
Let the goodness of Almighty God,
providing for the well-being of his church,
may bestow upon this bishop elect
the abundance of his grace
through Christ our Lord.

(all) Amen.

(chanting in Latin continues)

May these hands be anointed
with hallowed oil,
with the chrism that sanctifies.
Even as Samuel anointed David
king and prophet,
so may these hands
be anointed and consecrated.

(chanting in Latin continues)

Take this ring,
token of the pledged word.
Yours it is,
donned with unshakable fidelity
to preserve and guard,
in unblemished honor,
God's bride, the Holy Church.

(chanting in Latin continues)

Lord, on the head of this bishop
and champion of thine,
I put the helmet of defense
and salvation,
that with forehead thus adorned,
head armed with the horns
of both testaments,
he may appear fearsome
to the enemies of truth.

TO THE ENEMIES OF TRUTH

​THE COVENTRY CAROL
 
 
One of the most beautiful and poignant English Christmas carols sung over Christmastide is the “Coventry Carol.” Traditionally performed in Coventry, England, as part of the medieval Coventry Mystery Plays from the 16th century. “Coventry Carol” depicts the Massacre of the Innocents (Matthew 2:16-18). The carol was first performed in The Pageant of the Shearmen and Tailors and is the only carol to survive that historical time. These are the modern verses from the Episcopal Church Hymnal (Hymn 247). On the Christian liturgical calendar, the carol is associated with the Feast of the Innocents, which occurs on the Fourth Day of Christmas.
 
Burden or Refrain:
 
Lully, lullay, thou little tiny child,
bye-bye, lully lullay.
 
1. O sisters, too, 
how may we do
for to preserve this day
this poor youngling 
for whom we sing,
bye-bye lully lullay?
 
2. Herod the King, 
in his raging
charged he hath this day
his men of might, 
in his own sight,
all young children to slay.
 
3. That woe is me, 
poor child, for thee!
And every morn and day,
for thy parting 
nor say nor sing
bye-bye, lully lullay. [Burden]
 
Lully, lullay, thou little tiny child,
bye-bye, lully lullay.
 
First recorded in the Gospel of Matthew (2:16-18), the biblical story covers the time after the birth of Jesus when King Herod ordered the slaying of all male children under the age of two in Bethlehem. Today the story is considered only a legend by many biblical scholars. It is believed to be folklore inspired by Herod’s cruel and violent reputation. 

Modern scholars tell us Matthew’s account of slaying the newborn Jesus, whom Herod saw as a threat to his rule, was most likely modeled after the story of Moses and Pharaoh from the Book of Exodus. Flavius Josephus, the first-century Roman-Jewish historian, does not record the slaughter of the innocents in Bethlehem. There are no other historical accounts.

As an allegory, the story reminds us of how children may needlessly suffer from the politics of falsehoods, fear, enmity, and war. The carol is often associated with the 16th-century religious wars of the Reformation and the death of millions. After Coventry was bombed in WWII,  it was brought to a broader audience when it was featured in the BBC's Empire Broadcast at Christmas 1940. The broadcast concluded with the singing of the carol in the bombed-out ruins of the Cathedral. 

The carol itself is a lament written in the voice of the mothers of Bethlehem, mourning the loss of their innocent children. The lyrics are full of sorrow and grief as the mothers plead with their children to "lullay, lullay, thou little tiny child" and ask God to have mercy on their souls. One thing is for certain at any time; it is a heartbreaking story.
 
As a present-day allegory, the terrible, tragic irony of singing this beautiful carol at Christmastide while families and their children gather at our southern border in pain and misery must not be ignored. Their suffering must not be overlooked. Such heartache in our own time must be seen when considering the story of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, fleeing as refugees to Egypt, seeking safety and asylum from Herod’s violence.
 
Still, we must remember that “Coventry Carol” offers hope and redemption amid great suffering and loss. God's love and grace are present. God provides comfort and healing to all grieving people. God’s expectation is for us to do the same. God's love brings hope and healing to even the darkest times and circumstances. 
 
The promise of Baby Jesus is made to all humanity. We must not deny His promise to anyone. This, too, must be part of our celebration. Christians observing the Christmas season must hope and pray to find the inner strength, compassion, comfort, and peace given by Christ to make the Reign of God — actualized for all humankind, with no exclusions. Amen.
 


 
1. Facts for Kids: https://kids.kiddle.co/Coventry_Carol
2. Religious Wars Spawned by the Reformation: https://classroom.ricksteves.com/videos/the-religious-wars-spawned-by-the-reformation

AN EPISCOPALIAN SPEAKS OF MYSTERY AT CHRISTMAS
Ron Starbuck – Saint Julian Press – ©  December 23, 2022

Of the Father's Heart Begotten
 
Every poet and writer I know has a story to tell and tells their story through the formation of personal mythology. As we travel through life, our life changes.  Our identity shifts, and our sense of who we are as a person turns with the seasons of events and people who enter that life.
 
This is the impermanence of the self, which Buddhist philosophy teaches. It is a vital theme and awareness at work throughout and within Pratītyasamutpāda — Dependent Arising — Interbeing. In Buddhist thought, Being – Becoming – Existence: The infinite possibilities of all things held within creation and how everything in creation depends upon everything else.

“If this exists, that exists; if this ceases to exist, that also ceases to exist.”
 
Buddhism directs us toward the concept of Sunyata–Nirvana–Emptiness–Openness, celebrated in the Heart Sutra. The general principle of pratityasamutpada is complementary to the concept of emptiness (sunyata). Buddhist thought on impermanence teaches us that our sense of self as permanent is false and limited since we are ever-evolving and our lives are ever-changing and dynamic. The self, whom we actively identify with, is empty of such permanence. We are not the same person we were a year ago, twenty years ago, or before. Buddhism refers to this impermanence-illusion or false association as not–self, or no–self, anatta (uhn-uht-tah). It is an ego-clinging self, leading to suffering, misperceptions, selfishness, hubris, and deceitful projections.
 
In the Christian tradition, there is a similar concept, kenosis, the Greek word for emptiness. Kenosis is ‘self–emptying’ one’s own will in becoming receptive to the divine, to be in unity and union with the divine. Christ emptied himself to become a servant of all humankind (Philippians 2:5-11), as revealed in the devotional language and poetry of the scriptures and this ancient hymn. We empty or let go of the self to emulate Christ and become servants to humanity.

       
       Of the Father's Heart Begotten
        Divinum Mysterium – Aurelius Prudentius

       He assumed this mortal body,
       Frail and feeble, doomed to die,
       That the race from dust created,
       Might not perish utterly,
       Which the dreadful Law had sentenced
       In the depths of hell to lie,
       Evermore and evermore.

Translation by Roby Furley Davis
for The English Hymnal (1906)
 
Both heaven and nirvana are alike when we understand them as a spiritual path towards non-duality, to this union with the ultimate divine mystery of God from which all things arise. Creation is ever-expanding and evolving.
 
In a poem, the poet goes through multiple stages and feelings, crafting their words together until the poem ends.  As any poet knows, the poem is never quite finished.  It is almost always incomplete in some sense.  The poet has to let go of it and trust that the creative process goes on within the people who may read their humble efforts.
 
I offer this thought in a spirit of humility.  All our works as poets and writers are a continuation of other works that came before us, the voices of humanity passed down from one generation to another.
 
We are simple gatherers, gathering from those poets, writers, and storytellers who came before us. Even the greatest among us have been inspired by learning and reading the literary works of humankind.  And we, we humble few, are following in their footsteps.  There is something more going on, of course.
 
Each poem begins in silence, stillness, emptiness, an open place waiting to be filled, on a blank page, or as an even deeper divine memory.  And we, we are total participants in its creation.  There is a more profound mystery at work here, an inspiration.  To be creatively inspired is to be filled by the spirit of something more, something beyond the mundane and ourselves.
 
Please let me share this thought with you.  As much as any poem you write is your work, it is also not yours.  You have been inspired. You have heard the whispering of the gods, of God, or the muses of antiquity.  And now you are modestly returning to humankind the voices spoken before in a newer voice.
 
There are no accidents in life, merely a continuation of one life into and with another, in a continuation of consciousness grounded in the divine. Grounded in the great mystery of creation, we cannot quite name it, written within us.  The Holy Spirit may pray in and with us when we do not know how to pray.
 
The words you speak or write are not your own; they have been fashioned before. They abide and rest in a universal divine consciousness and spirit that dwell within us each. They were written upon your soul, deep within your core, heart, and mind, long ago.
 
And now, you have been inspired to return them to humankind in healing for humanity.  The poet within you has heeded the stillness and silence of creation deeply. From such a listening comes a word, a verse, a poem. Each poem is composed as an act of creation, a loving act of giving, healing, and repairing the world.
 
Let me leave you, please, with these opening words from the Gospel of John, with an understanding that they, too, are a poetic metaphor and a symbol pointing us toward a more profound mystery in which we reside and that dwells within us.
 
The Word Became Flesh

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life,[a] and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. – (NRSV, Anglicised)
 
You, too, are this light.
 
And then there is this great Christmas Carol that touches on the Mystery of Christ. Why did God come in human form to serve humankind with an open and humble heart, to empty himself? This is one answer in the Anglican Spiritual tradition's mystical language and poetry.
 
Of the Father's Heart Begotten, alternatively known as Of the Father's Love Begotten, is a Christmas carol based on the Latin poem Corde natus by the Roman poet Aurelius Prudentius.

​
Of the Father's Heart Begotten
~ Divinum Mysterium – Aurelius Prudentius~

Translation by Roby Furley Davis
for The English Hymnal (1906)
 
Of the Father's heart begotten,
Ere the world from chaos rose,
He is Alpha, from that Fountain
All that is and hath been flows;
He is Omega, of all things,
Yet to come the mystic Close,
Evermore and evermore.

By His Word was all created
He commanded and 'twas done;
Earth and sky and boundless ocean,
Universe of three in one,
All that sees the moon's soft radiance,
All that breathes beneath the sun,
Evermore and evermore. 

He assumed this mortal body,
Frail and feeble, doomed to die,
That the race from dust created,
Might not perish utterly,
Which the dreadful Law had sentenced
In the depths of hell to lie,
Evermore and evermore.

O how blest that wondrous birthday,
When the Maid the curse retrieved,
Brought to birth mankind's salvation
By the Holy Ghost conceived,
And the Babe, the world's Redeemer
In her loving arms received,
Evermore and evermore.

Sing, ye heights of heaven, his praises;
Angels and Archangels, sing!
Wheresoe’er ye be, ye faithful,
Let your joyous anthems ring,
Every tongue his name confessing,
Countless voices answering,
Evermore and evermore.

This is He, whom seer and sibyl
Sang in ages long gone by,;
This is He of old revealed
In the page of prophecy;
Lo! He comes the promised Saviour;
Let the world his praises cry!
Evermore and evermore.

Hail! Thou Judge of souls departed;
Hail! of all the living King!
On the Father's right hand throned,
Through his courts thy praises ring,
Till at last for all offences
Righteous judgement thou shalt bring,
Evermore and evermore.

Now let old and young uniting
Chant to thee harmonious lays
Maid and matron hymn Thy glory,
Infant lips their anthem raise,
Boys and girls together singing
With pure heart their song of praise,
Evermore and evermore.

Let the storm and summer sunshine,
Gliding stream and sounding shore,
Sea and forest, frost and zephyr,
Day and night their Lord alone;
Let creation join to laud thee
Through the ages evermore,
Evermore and evermore.


Of The Father's Heart Begotten (Sir David Willcocks) Ely Cathedral Choir

To Be ~ Fully Human & Fully Divine
 

If you grew up celebrating Christmas, as I did, one of the questions you may have asked yourself as you grew older is who is Jesus to you now?  And even if you were not raised as a Christian and practice another faith or follow another spiritual tradition, this is still a good question to ask.
 
I believe it needs to be a more profound question and answer than what you may have been taught as a small child in Sunday school.  And it begins with the story of the Nativity, with the Christ child born in a manger and watched over by an ox and ass.
 
There is a beautiful aspect to Jesus we so often forget and don’t focus on, as much as we ought, the humanity of Jesus. The story of Christmas is only the beginning.
 
The story begins with Jesus, as the Incarnate Word and First Born of Creation, who emptied himself, being born in human likeness and form, and all this means.
 
O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, God with Us.

To be human is to be vulnerable. To be human is to endure pain and suffering. To be human is to discover love. To be human is to learn forgiveness. To be human is to live for others as much as for ourselves. To be human is the gift of life. To be human is to live our lives, and to live them fully.
 
When we see Jesus as fully human and divine, it is “meet and right” to stress his humanity as much as his divinity. As found in the words of the Sursum Corda, Latin for “Lift up your hearts" or to have our "Hearts lifted" in the opening dialogue to the Preface of the Eucharistic Prayer.
 
Eucharistic Prayer
 
                   The Lord be with you.
People        And with thy spirit.
Celebrant    Lift up your hearts.
People        We lift them up unto the Lord.
Celebrant    Let us give thanks unto our Lord God.
People        It is meet and right so to do.


And come to understand that the gift of Christmas is transformational because ultimately, this gift opens up to the People of God an indwelling of the Holy Spirit.  However, you may see the Spirit at work in your own life.
 
As fully human as we are, it opens us up to an indwelling of "God the Father" as Divine Mystery, an indwelling of Christ and the Spirit, and it awakens our fullest human potential to love.
 
The literature of scripture and liturgy, the poetry, psalms, parables, images, and symbols of all our sacred stories and liturgies are pointing us towards a way of understanding the Divine Mystery that cannot easily be named or wholly described.
 
These stories are intended to be internalized, to stretch our imaginations, to help suspend our sense of disbelief, to believe in something beyond ourselves, to teach and reveal the truth, to see beyond the story into a deeper and richer mystery that is true, which is real at the inmost levels of the self and soul.
 
To see beyond our earthly sight, to see with insight the invisible and unseen power of God at work within the world. The Holy Spirit at work within the world. To see God’s love actively at work in our lives and the lives of others, transforming creation.
 
God as a Verb; God as Spirit; God as Truth; God as Divine Mystery; God as Love; God as an Indwelling of the Spirit within each and every one of us in this world. God as InterBeing (Thich Nhat Hanh), and God as the "Connecting Spirit" to paraphrase theologian Paul F. Knitter, as an interconnection that flows in and with and through all creation, bringing us into a relationship with one another.
 
​

O Sleepers Awake — to be “Woke” is to be awakened, to be as we are called to be in all our humanity and full human potential to love. Conversations on being roused and awakened touch on the very ground of our being and the greater mysteries of creations. Too often, we let our collective and communal vocabulary, our language, divide us in unseen ways.
 
The poetic metaphor in the – “Parable of the Ten Virgins” is a greater mystery. Let us awaken to the world around us and the people we are blessed to know, love, and are called to serve by God's greater consciousness. To awaken is to "Rise-Up" for all humanity, as Christ once did in his ministry of faith. This is what the parable teaches us; we are more than we imagine. We are more than we may imagine to one another, beyond all the mysteries of creation arising within this world.
​
The politics and rhetoric of a nation dismiss this with harsh brutality, with a cruelness we cannot often see, and we should.  
 
To be "Woke" - Is to be Awakened. O Sleepers Awake!  
 
Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme, BWV 140
 
— Awake, the voice is calling us.
 
 

 
 

TATIANA
From — SONG OF THE REPUBLIC
By Kevin McGrath from Saint Julian Press 2020

In “Tatiana,” Kevin McGrath paints a picture of the natural world in the final moments of dusk. With their soft noise and hundred wings, the geese are described as descending onto the lake like something “greater than we ever were, and the sky as “primitive.”  The half-moon and white planet in the sky add to the sense of grandeur and otherworldliness. 

The poem touches on the idea of human life being a reversal of the natural world, with the poet suggesting that humans often think they are inventing things that have already been done before.  
“Tatiana” is a contemplative and poetic reflection on the natural world and the cyclical nature of life. Through its language and imagery, the poem invites the reader to consider their place in the world and how human life is connected to the larger cycles of nature.
 
The poem employs several literary devices to convey its themes and create an atmosphere. The repetition of the long “o” sound in "goose" and "moon" makes sense of unity between the natural elements in the poem. The use of personification, such as the moon "gaping" and the sky “primitive,” adds depth to the realistic imagery and suggests a sense of mystery and awe. The contrast between the noise of the geese's wings and the calm of the lake, as well as the distinction between the children playing inside and the natural world outside, adds to the sense of contrast and balance in the poem.
 
The final stanza shifts the focus to the children in the house, who are “imitating a tune” as the last rays of pink light disappear into another world. This contrast between the grandeur of nature and the smallness of human life emphasizes the idea of a reversal as if the natural world is a trustworthy source of power and inspiration. In contrast, human life is just a mere imitation.
 
The poem’s final stanza introduces the image of children imitating a tune in a house and the sky transitioning from pink to black as sleep fills the hemisphere. This brings the focus back to the human experience, suggesting that even as the natural world continues, humans continue to go about their daily lives.
 
The final line, with the owl gliding from its wood, adds to this sense of the natural world as a timeless and eternal force. The repetition of the word “as” in this line also suggests a sense of continuity and cyclicality, as if the natural world is constantly moving and changing. At the same time, human life is stuck in patterns of imitation and repetition.
 
Largely, “Tatiana” is a poem that celebrates the beauty and majesty of the natural world while suggesting that human life is small and insignificant. The poem explores the theme of the interconnectedness of all living things and how nature is both larger than and deeply intertwined with human life. The imagery of the geese, the celestial bodies, and the contrast between the natural and artificial worlds contribute to this premise. Through its vivid imagery and clever repetition, McGrath invites readers to consider their place in creation and how they interact with the natural world around them.

​TATIANA

 
Geese landing upon a lake
In the final red bars of dusk
The soft noise of a hundred wings
Mowing through cool dark air
 
From over smooth hills they came
Crying out in long formation
Above a half-moon was gaping
At a brilliant white planet
 
Onto calm water descending
Something greater than we ever were
 Rising and falling onto a lake
Circling low in black emptiness
 
Further off in a house children
Were imitating a tune
As the last thin pink rays went
From a primitive sky to another world
 
Reversal of so much human life
We repeat thinking we invent
Sleep fills our hemisphere as
An owl glides from its wood
​

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Note: This literary analysis content was originally generated by the OpenAI-ChatGPT artificial intelligence service, edited, and enhanced afterward for grammar and writing style.
 
OpenAI Website: https://openai.com/about/

​ 
In the poem “Behold, a Virgin Shall Conceive,” from Anne Babson’s poetry collection MESSIAH, the poet presents a conversation between a nurse and a young pregnant girl who is seeking guidance and support. The title of the poem refers to a biblical passage from the book of Isaiah and Matthew, in which a virgin gives birth to a son who will be named Immanuel, which means "God with us."
 
The poem begins with the nurse describing her shift at work and her encounter with the pregnant young girl. The nurse expresses her shock at the girl's age and lack of knowledge about how she got pregnant. There is a distinct sweetness, innocence, and mystery to the girl. Despite all this, the girl is determined to keep the baby and has a boyfriend she hopes will help her raise the child. The nurse notes that, in their state, parental notification is not required for the girl to seek medical care, and she speculates that the girl's father may already know about the pregnancy.
 
The nurse describes the girl as elegant and not easily scared, despite her difficult situation. The nurse is struck by the girl's sense of expectation and joy, despite the challenges she will face as a single mother. The poem ends with the nurse reflecting on the girl's resilience and the difficulties young girls from disadvantaged backgrounds face.
 
Overall, the poem presents a poignant and thought-provoking portrayal of the challenges faced by young, pregnant girls and their resilience and determination in the face of adversity. The biblical reference in the title adds a layer of religious and spiritual meaning to the poem, highlighting the idea of hope and divine intervention in difficult circumstances.
 
The story helps us imagine what it would be like for the Virgin Mary to give birth to Jesus in these modern times. It asks the question. What challenges would Mary face today in 21st-century American society? Would anyone believe her? Would she be treated with compassion or be judged harshly and with indifference? Will wise men suddenly appear? Will she find the expected joy of giving birth to the Baby Jesus?
 
 
 
BEHOLD, A VIRGIN SHALL CONCEIVE
 
“Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive,
and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.” –– Isaiah 7:14
 
“Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall
call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.”  –– Matthew 1:23
 
A rough shift this evening, darlin’!  I worked graveyard again.
This girl came in.  Was she even fourteen?  Pregnant.
She claimed she had never done a dang thing that would
Get a girl in trouble.  She barely knew about
Birds and bees.  So young, sweet really!  I told her all
Her options.  She’s keeping it.  She says she has a
Boyfriend who’ll help out – so she hopes.  Thank God
Parental notification isn’t required
In this state!  She thinks her father already knows.
I bet he does, the bastard!  What those girls go through!
Sure didn’t come from the right side of the tracks, but
She had this air about her, kind of elegant.
Nothing I said scared her.  They most times cry.
She was – how can I explain it – expecting joy.
 

 
“Behold, A Virgin Shall Conceive” 
was first published in
14 Magazine in the UK.
Anne Babson © 2019
 
 

​MESSIAH, a post-modern bop through our culture set in diverse elements of the American landscape—  from a Manhattan subway station, to mills of rural Louisiana, to the mean streets of Detroit, to the wilds of the American Northwest, to Yankee Stadium, to the hills of Bellaire —  writes back to the Bible passages with which Handel composed his Messiah Oratorio without challenging their theological meaning but setting them, as most sacred art does, in the contemporary. Anne Babson’s poetry isn’t “churchy,” but it is replete with passionate exhortation, delighting in Americans in their imperfections and calling for a subversive conspiracy of love and a new era of compassion. The book is set to a soundtrack of American music, where the rapture trumpet is blown by Louis Armstrong, where the angels sing in doo-wop chorus, and where Handel’s “Chorus: Hallelujah” turns into a Southern Rock anthem. The work is about us and our needs, our playlist, our delights, and the possibility of radical forgiveness and a return to hope.

Note: This literary analysis content was originally generated by the OpenAI-ChatGPT artificial intelligence service, edited, and enhanced afterward for grammar and writing style.
 
OpenAI Website: https://openai.com/about/

 
Advent is the liturgical season when Christians are called to contemplate the approaching birth of Christ. In Advent, as did the Virgin Mary, we prepare our hearts and souls for the birth of Jesus on Christmas morning. We say yes, to God, and we say yes to humanity. We encourage ourselves to give birth to God’s love within the world. In Advent, as did the Magi, we journey to find the newborn Christ child.
 
The 20th-Century theologian Paul Tillich reminds us that “Advent is a time of hope and expectation, of waiting for the fulfillment of God's promises. It is a time to remember the longing of the prophets, the faith of the patriarchs, and the struggles of the people of God throughout history.” And so we await Christ’s coming.
 
In the Nativity Story, we are reminded of the prophet Isaiah, who spoke of a time when “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone” (Isaiah 9:2). This light is the light of Christ, who came into the world to bring salvation, renewal, reconciliation, and redemption.
 
As we await the coming of Christ, may we turn away from all our estrangements, our separations, and our many divisions and seek the light of Christ within us. Help us, Lord, to remember who we are as a people of faith, help us to see one another again as your people.
 
In his poem “Journey of the Magi,” T. S. Eliot wrote these solemn words—that illustrated the long journey of the Magi. Such spiritual journeys are never easy. They are harder than we may imagine or recognize at the time. And yet, the journey prepares us for something new.
 
 
‘A cold coming we had of it, 
Just the worst time of the year 
For a journey, and such a long journey: 
The ways deep and the weather sharp, 
The very dead of winter.' 
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory, 
Lying down in the melting snow. 
There were times we regretted 
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces, 
And the silken girls bringing sherbet. 
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling 
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women, 
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters, 
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly 
And the villages dirty and charging high prices: 
A hard time we had of it. 
At the end we preferred to travel all night, 
Sleeping in snatches, 
With the voices singing in our ears, saying 
That this was all folly. 
Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley, 
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation; 
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness, 
And three trees on the low sky, 
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow. 
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel, 
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver, 
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins. 
But there was no information, and so we continued 
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon 
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory. 
 
All this was a long time ago, I remember, 
And I would do it again, but set down 
This set down 
This: were we led all that way for 
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly, 
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death, 
But had thought they were different; this Birth was 
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death. 
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms, 
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, 
With an alien people clutching their gods. 
I should be glad of another death.
 
 
The final verse reminds us that we must be glad of another death, our own death. The death of an old life we can no longer live or tolerate. The death of enmity. The death of fear. The death of the violence we project towards one another. It is a reminder and an admonishment that we must no longer be at ease under our old ways of thinking and acting, our old indulgences, which turn us away from God and from one another. We must stop the death of dwelling in a land of deep darkness.
 
We must never be comfortable living in the illusion and dimness of our estrangements but endeavor to follow Christ and live in the light of love. As we prepare to celebrate Christ's birth this Christmas, may we pray for the grace to follow him, our Lord, more closely. May this Advent season be a time of renewal. May it be a time of reconciliation and healing, and unity. A time to prepare, a time to let go of the old and embrace the new, before we receive and celebrate the coming of our Savior.

“So we know and believe the love God has for us. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.” I JOHN 4:16.
 
“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” JOHN 13:34-35.
 
God's abiding in us, making within us a dwelling place for God's Spirit, is the same as our abiding in love, where love is the the domain of our dwelling place. God and love are not two separate realities; they are one.


Amen.

ON the same night, the Baby Jesus was born; a pure white colt was also born. The Holy Family gave him the Spanish name of Manuelo. This is Manuelo’s story and the story of Jesus too. Jesus, whom the Prophets of Israel once told us, we would call Emmanuel, is God’s gift of love to save the world.
 
THERE is always a story within a story, a tale within a tale. This is one of the myths told by the angels and archangels that watched over the Nativity on the first night of Christmas.
 
A myth is a fairy tale that is truer than true; it is a story that grows stronger and stronger inside your heart as you mature in faith. A myth is a legend that inspires humanity.
 
It offers us a lesson in wisdom and an inward change that brings our souls closer to God and creation. In truth, it is a story we know in our soul, one we have known forever and forgotten.
 
This is still true even today, especially today, now at this moment. It is true yesterday, too, as it will always be true tomorrow. And in all the yesterdays and tomorrows, we may try to imagine in a world without end.
​

EMMANUEL means “God with us,” and in Spanish, so does the name Manuelo. So, Jesus and Manuelo share a similar name. Do you remember these words from an Advent hymn we sing yearly, VENI EMMANUEL?

 
O come, O come, Emmanuel, 
and ransom captive Israel, 
that mourns in lonely exile here 
until the Son of God appears. 
Rejoice! Rejoice! 
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
 

AS GOD’S special gift to the Baby Jesus, Manuelo was so happy to become his friend. Manuelo’s mother, Isidora, wisely and humbly carried Mary from Nazareth to Bethlehem, where Mary gave birth to Baby Jesus.
 
ISIDORA’S name means a gift of God in Spanish. The angels and archangels will tell you that Isidora and Mary knew each other when Mary was first born. Manuelo and Jesus thought of this as God’s magical circle of love. Do you believe in the magic of God’s love?
 
WHEN the three wise men who traveled from the East came with their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, they looked at Manuelo and Jesus and knew they would become best friends. Manuelo and Jesus were so happy to be with one another as extraordinary friends.
 
Manuelo and Jesus played, ate, and prayed with and for one another. Sometimes, they even fell asleep together like two innocent lambs. When Jesus first started school, Manuelo carried him from home to the schoolyard and back again.

EVERY YEAR at the feast of Passover, the family journeyed to Jerusalem to visit the Jewish Temple. Manuelo carried Jesus across the Roman roads of Israel and through the ancient stone streets to the temple on their journey, where Jesus entered our heavenly Father’s house to learn and pray.
 
In the Jewish Temple, Jesus sat among the teachers listening and asking them questions. They were all amazed at his inborn knowledge and understanding. Manuelo watched and heard as well and saw how Jesus grew in wisdom and stature.
 
AND MANY YEARS later, after Jesus was baptized in the Jordon River. When led by the Holy Spirit into the wilderness for forty days, Manuelo was still beside him, helping Jesus to make the journey.
 
MANUELO was there through all the years that Jesus lived, when Jesus ministered to the poor, healed the sick, visited people in prison, and loved everyone heartbroken or in pain. 
 
WHENEVER Manuelo traveled with Jesus, he told all the other animals they met about who Jesus was and how he loved them. He explained to all who would listen how our heavenly father sent his only-begotten son into the world to save the whole world.
 
Everywhere they went together, children gathered, drawn towards Jesus, who loved them so dearly. And towards Manuelo as well, whom they hugged and petted and felt a special love for, as Manuelo loved them all.
 
WHEN Jesus entered Jerusalem on what we now celebrate as Palm Sunday, Manuelo holding his head high with pride, carried him into the city. They were together before and after the Last Supper. When Jesus prayed all night long in the Garden of Gethsemane, Manuelo prayed with him. And on the darkest day of their lives, Manuelo was with Jesus. As Jesus was beaten and crucified on the cross, he committed his spirit unto our heavenly father and died.

AS the Roman soldiers finally took Jesus down from the cross, Manuelo helped Joseph of Arimathea carry Jesus one last time to his tomb. As any child can imagine, this was a sorrowful time for Manuelo, for he loved his friend Jesus very much. And with every step Manuelo took, tears streamed from his sad eyes and fell to the ground.
 
AND yet, Manuelo knew in some mysterious way, as our animal friends often know things we do not, that this was a part of God’s plan to save the world. As each teardrop touched the ground, wherever Manuelo’s hooves had carefully stepped, something wonderful happened. Every tear turned into a beautiful and priceless pearl, a symbol of God’s love for the whole world and the people in the world. 
 
IT is as if Jesus shared a secret with Manuelo, telling him that he shouldn’t be afraid and that they would see one another again soon. So, even though this was a time of great sadness for Manuelo, all his sorrow was balanced out by a great sense of joy. Manuelo knew then, as he knows now, that Jesus is always with us, even unto eternity and across all of God’s creation.
 
AS for Manuelo, his story continues up until today. He travels across creation, always as an angel of light, telling his tale to all the animals and children he meets. You may see him appear as a Unicorn, a symbol of Christ. Jesus is forever a part of Manuelo, just like Jesus is forever a part of you. 
 
JESUS lives within us each and is with us forever now. The Holy Spirit dwells within us, praying in and with and through us, especially when we don’t always know how to pray on our own.

A poet's work is to help expand humanity's literary and cultural dialogue and to magnify and transform our human perceptions. We do so by engaging fresh forms and symbols, and vocabulary. We create new languages describing the experience of life. We offer words and, in our imaginations, try our best to capture the ineffable and intangible - tongues of angels and heaven.

​Poets and writers who create literature have a different relationship with words than the legal and justice communities where lawyers, lawmakers, courts, and justices live and work.  One thing seems inevitable, the best poets and writers rarely suffer a failure of their imaginations. Imagination is their livelihood; imagination is their bread and butter; it is what inspires them to rise in the middle of the night or early morning to create and write.
 
In 2012, the following poem – “Tonglen For Newtown (Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep),” was first published in a new collection of poems titled When Angels Are Born.  At the end of this essay is another poem – “A Season of Sorrow” from a more recent collection, A Pilgrimage of Churches, nearly ten years after the Newtown, Sandy Hook Elementary shooting and only a few months before the Uvalde, Texas shooting at Robb Elementary.

  
 
 
TONGLEN FOR NEWTOWN 
(Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep) 
 

You have known this one
prayer by memory since
you were a child,
it's a good place to start.
 
"Now I lay me down to
sleep if I should die
before I wake, I pray
the lord my soul to take."
 
There are times
like this,
when you just have
to stop doing
 
whatever you are doing
and simply pray.
Practice some tonglen,
like the Buddhist do
 
or light a candle
as a Christian does
in church, kneeling
before some sacred altar.
 
Tonglen is the taking of another's
pain and the giving of love.
We begin by taking on
the suffering
 
of a person we 
know to be hurting, of
the world even as Christ did, 
and whom we wish to help.
 
This takes the greatest 
compassion; it is breathing in
all the darkness.
And then letting the love
 
of your heart turn it
instantly into the light
of a billion stars and suns,
and then breathing out
 
again all that love
into the world,
the light brightening
the world, turning 
 
it again and again.
It's true you know,
love makes
the world go round,
 
even when, perhaps
especially when it
has stopped making
all sense. This is when
 
we need such
prayers
and praying
the most.
 
  
Ron Starbuck — When Angels Are Born
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-0988944701
 
On gun safety and new ways to address gun violence and mental healthcare in America. American children deserve the same protection as Supreme Court Justices and members of Congress. Why would we offer anything less to a child?
 
We must protect the future well-being of our children and the schools where they learn. The GOP's resistance to any change, to doing nothing, is unsustainable and unconscionable. Always saying no, does nothing to make anyone, especially our children, safer.  This is a sacred trust we must not dismiss. Lord, forgive us for what we DO NOT DO; inaction is a sin.
 
The Bill of Rights, with it, the Second Amendment of the United States Constitution, was written by James Madison, the “Father of the Constitution” and the fourth president of the United States. As one of the founders, he was a brilliant student of the law, an esteemed scholar, and a philosopher of his time. His early studies at Princeton included Latin, Greek, theology, and the works of the Enlightenment. He later read and studied the law in even greater detail.
 
The Enlightenment encompassed a range of philosophies centered on the value of human life and happiness, the pursuit of knowledge through reason and empirical knowledge, and the principles of liberty, social progress, tolerance, fraternity, constitutional government, and the separation of church and state. The views of the Enlightenment undermined the authority of autocracy known in its time under the Western institutions and rule of monarchies and the Church. The Age of the Enlightenment, or the Age of Reason, arose from the European religious wars of the 16th, 17th, and early 18th centuries, which resulted in the death of millions.
 
The first wave of immigrants to America came to seek a new life and opportunities, peace and safety, and social and religious freedom without conflict, violence, and war. They came to America as refugees with new ideas and the intention of creating a better society formed on these values. And in the process, they made the world’s oldest democracy. A democracy that is now threatened by an insidious erosion of those shared values of enlightenment and reason.
 
It is not beyond reason to imagine that the founders could never have foreseen the future Americans live in now. It is a failure of the imagination for Constitutional originalists to consider a more thoughtful scholarship and approach in the 21st Century, with the military weapons and arms manufactured in massive amounts today. This cannot be what the founders intended in the Constitution and the pre-industrial age.
 
We must look at the tragic and complex social dynamics and the death of American children. No one, not one of our nation’s founders in the late Eighteenth-Century, could have foretold this future and these tragic deaths. We may easily imagine that they would be horrified at this chaos and death. And the loss of law and order, grounded in the rule of law and God’s two greatest commandments.
 
The Second Amendment to the Constitution is a straightforward sentence: “A well-regulated Militia, being necessary for the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.” We can look at what the Framers meant in their time's historical and social context and the heritage of militias first established by the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1636 and other American colonies for their common defense.
 
The organization of these state militias was preserved and maintained after the founding of the United States, and the ratification of the Constitution under Article I, Section 8, Clause 15 and 16 giving the President, Congress, and the state government the authority to call “forth the Militia to execute the Laws of the Union, suppress Insurrections and repel Invasions.” A clear and distinct line of military command is present, where the Militia reports and answers to the United States Government.
 
Article I, Section 8, Clause 15:
 
[The Congress shall have Power . . . ] To provide for calling forth the Militia to execute the Laws of the Union, suppress Insurrections, and repel Invasions.
 
Article I, Section 8, Clause 16:
 
[The Congress shall have Power . . . ] To provide for organizing, arming, and disciplining, the Militia, and for governing such Part of them as may be employed in the Service of the United States, reserving to the States respectively, the Appointment of the Officers, and the Authority of training the Militia according to the discipline prescribed by Congress.
 
We may also look at what is written first and the sequence of words used in the Second Amendment. “A well-regulated Militia, being necessary for the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.”
 
The first clause declares the presence and existence of a well-regulated Militia, with the word Militia capitalized as a proper noun, indicating a formal name or organization. This implies that any Militia is a part of the organized armed forces of this country and the government, which may be called upon in an emergency. We see what the Second Amendment guarantees at work in America today through the presence of citizen soldiers serving in the National Guard as an essential part of the United States Military.
 
The second clause tells us that an organized Militia with a capital “M” is defined as — “being necessary for the security of a free state.” The following two clauses are dependent upon these first two. “The right of the people to bear arms” is dependent upon the formal association within an organized and sanctioned Militia associated with the nation's Armed Forces. And when that condition exists and is the case, as it was during early American colonial and frontier times, to “keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.”
 
In the United States v. Miller, decided on May 15, 1939, the Supreme Court “reasoned that because possessing a sawed-off double barrel shotgun does not have a reasonable relationship to the preservation or efficiency of a well-regulated militia, the Second Amendment does not protect the possession of such an instrument.” How much more could this apply to weapons designed for war and used exclusively by the military?
 
The Second Amendment does NOT protect any citizen's unregulated and unfettered ownership of dangerous and unusual military weapons. In the District of Columbia ET AL. v. HELLER case, decided on June 26, 2008, the Second Amendment right is not unlimited. Although the ruling did affirm that Heller may possess a handgun for self-defense within the home, there were requirements associated with that ownership, and the District did permit Heller a license.
 
The Court also provided other clarification in its ruling. The SCOTUS brief explicitly states, “Like most rights, the Second Amendment right is not a right to keep and carry any weapon whatsoever in any manner whatsoever and for whatever purpose.” It reaffirms the following.
 
“The Court’s opinion should not be taken to cast doubt on longstanding prohibitions on the possession of firearms by felons and the mentally ill, or laws forbidding the carrying of firearms in sensitive places such as schools and government buildings, or laws imposing conditions and qualifications on the commercial sale of arms. Miller’s holding that the sorts of weapons protected are those “in common use at the time” finds support in the historical tradition of prohibiting the carrying of dangerous and unusual weapons.”
 
Dangerous and Unusual Weapons — covers a lot of semi-automatic weapons, and new laws could be written and implemented to provide a greater level of Public Safety. And those laws would be Constitutional without negating the right to bear arms for self-defense, hunting, and sport, or components unconnected to military service.
 
Such laws on dangerous and unusual weapons would not change how the Second Amendment protects an individual right to possess a functional firearm unconnected with service in a militia and to use that arm for traditionally lawful purposes, such as self-defense within the home. However, they could help to control and regulate the possession of more dangerous and unusual military-grade weapons designed to inflict maximum damage upon the human body.  At the very least, we should move towards a compromise that embraces middle-of-the-road gun reforms, which include raising the minimum age for purchasing most semiautomatic rifles to 21 and banning high-capacity ammunition magazines, along with more extensive background checks and red flag capabilities. None of these common-sense actions would be unconstitutional.
 
We are doing something wrong in America, and our local, state, and federal leaders are paralyzed. They are incapable of movement, and far too many are beholden to the NRA and special interests.  In the day's politics, they have lost something we should all hold dear, a sense of honor associated with the practice of true servant leadership that protects and embraces human life. America, we are better than this; let compassion guide your consciousness and conscience to protect the children and families of this nation.
 
 
 
A SEASON OF SORROW
PSALM 31 In te, Domine, speravi
1 In you, O Lord, have I taken refuge;
let me never be put to shame;
     deliver me in your righteousness.
2 Incline your ear to me;
     make haste to deliver me.
 
 

In our deepest grief
Earth’s fairness fades
And removes itself
From all suffering
Within the world
Becoming a season of sorrow
Where impassive signs
And forebodings
Begin to reign as
We fail to remember
Whom we are
Our brightness gone
Our gardens longing
For heaven’s light reflected
Once in a decency lived
In this darkness
We witness our death
Through a single loss
Amid the hardness of life
We do not know how to live
Among the dead
In the anguish
Of our complacency
Remorse haunts us
An illusion steals
Our breath away
In our inability to breathe
In such rigidity
And fear we lose
The point of living
As if it too has moved
Elsewhere and is lost
While heaven bears witness
Watch now — we are being
Transformed through
A deeper memory at work
Within the world
At a point which comes
Much later — when a season
Of hope restores the light

 
 
Ron Starbuck — A Pilgrimage of Churches
ISBN: 978-1-7330233-9-9

To learn more about gun violence in America visit these two great organizations.

Everytown for Gun Safety

Giffords Law Center
​
​

Only in America . . . 
 
Lord forgive us, for what we do and do not do. Lord forgive us, for not protecting the children in our schools and across the country. Children in America are living in fear, our schools and places of worship and where we gather as a community should be the safest places in America. 

America is weeping once more . . .
 
We are doing something terribly wrong in America and our local, state, and federal leaders are all paralyzed. They are incapable of movement and far too many are beholden to the NRA and special interests.  In the politics of the day, they have lost something we should all hold dear, a sense of honor associated with the practice of true servant-leadership.
 
This is NOT what the founders intended in the Constitution. We need to look at the tragic social dynamics taking place today. No one, not one of our nation’s founders in the late Eighteenth-Century, could have foreseen this future. Constitutional originalists — please take note, that this could never have been their intention, far from it I believe. Your positions on the Second Amendment require a more thoughtful scholarship and approach. 
 
Allowing anyone to buy an assault weapon without a comprehensive extended background check and thorough screening via adequate gun safety laws, has nothing to do with supporting a well-regulated militia as written in the Second Amendment. It is the opposite. It is chaos! It is the death of too many!

The Second Amendment to the Constitution, is one simple sentence: “A well regulated militia, being necessary for the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.” We can look at what the Framers meant in the historical and social context of that time.

​In their time, to “bear arms” meant to be part of an organized militia licensed and supported by the government as an agency of the government to protect the frontier. We see what the Second Amendment guarantees, at work today, through the presence of citizen-soldiers serving in the National Guard as an integral part of the U. S. Military.
 
The Second Amendment does NOT protect the unregulated ownership of military style assault weapons, nor I believe unlawful irregular-aberrant militias. In the District of Columbia ET AL. v. HELLER case, decided on June 26, 2008, the Second Amendment right is not unlimited. "Like most rights, the Second Amendment right is not a right to keep and carry any weapon whatsoever in any manner whatsoever and for whatever purpose." 

There are states that regulate and ban assault weapons, and all these laws have been upheld by the courts. Such laws once existed at a federal level from 1994 until 2004, when it ended with a sunset clause. Several constitutional challenges were filed against provisions of the ban, but all were rejected by the courts. There were multiple attempts to renew the ban, but none succeeded. 
 
If people want to see real change, the only way to create that change is to vote for caring folks at a local, state, and federal level who will do what is needed to protect our children, and who will embrace a broader understanding of what being “Pro-Life” means. Being “Pro-Life” goes beyond the womb too, it should extend across the fullness of a life given to us by God.
 
Comments from many political leaders on the deaths in Uvalde, Texas — are full of compassion, care, and wisdom. But when I listen to some of our more conservative political leaders on gun rights, I must wonder where their moral backbones have dissolved. They are not protecting our children and they are NOT practicing “Pro-Life” in its fullest meaning. And they cannot claim in many opinions and ways of knowing, to be upholding the intention of the Constitution in its fullest moral meaning and guarantees of liberty.

A Prayer for a New Paradigm of Pro-Life Living & Practice

Dear Lord — In these terrible times please open our hearts and minds to make protecting our children our highest priority. Teach us how to practice being "Pro-Life" in a new paradigm that makes our schools, our places of worship, and the public places where we gather as a community the safest places in America.  Help us to love one another as you have loved us in the life and lives we are given to care for and share.  Amen

For Those Who Watch & Weep

Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give thine angels charge over those who sleep.  Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for thy love's sake.    Amen.

For the Care of Children

Almighty God, heavenly Father, you have blessed us with the joy and care of children: Give us calm strength and patient wisdom as we bring them up, that we may teach them to love whatever is just and true and good, following the example of our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

For Young Persons

God our Father, you see your children growing up in an unsteady and confusing world: Show them that your ways give more life than the ways of the world, and that following you is better than chasing after selfish goals. Help them to take failure, not as a measure of their worth, but as a chance for a new start. Give them strength to hold their faith in you, and to keep alive their joy in your creation; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

For Our Country

O God our Father, whose beloved Son took children into his arms and blessed them: Give us grace to entrust your beloved children of Uvalde to your everlasting care and love, and bring them fully into your heavenly kingdom. Pour out your grace and loving-kindness on all who grieve; surround them with your love; and restore their trust in your goodness. We lift up to you our weary, wounded souls and ask you to send your Holy Spirit to take away the anger and violence that infects our hearts, and make us instruments of your peace and children of the light. In the Name of Christ who is our hope, we pray. Amen.

(This last prayer was originally shared by Bishop Andy Doyle - Episcopal Diocese of Texas.)

​
Ron Starbuck
​Publisher/CEO/Executive Editor
Saint Julian Press, Inc.
Houston, Texas

​

NICODEMUS RISES
JOHN 3 — (NRSV)
5 Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God 
without being born of water and Spirit. 6 What is born of the flesh is flesh, 
and what is born of the Spirit is spirit.”

WASHINGTON —  Over twenty-five years ago, on February 2, 1996, Kansas Senator Bob Dole introduced legislation to establish Nicodemus, Kansas as a National Historic Site. The historic site is composed of the First Baptist Church, the St. Francis Hotel, the Nicodemus School District Number 1, the African Methodist Episcopal Church, and the Township Hall. Nicodemus is the last remaining community established by African-Americans during the Reconstruction era following the Civil War. It is the longest-lasting African-American homesteader colony in America.
 
When introducing to Congress the legislation Senator Dole offered this statement.  “Too often, the tragic legacy of the Civil War was that blacks traded the chains of slavery for poverty, prejudice and persecution. The free soil of Nicodemus allowed blacks to flourish. In my view, it is important to preserve that rich heritage, so that future generations will understand the special place of Nicodemus in the settling of the west.”
 
If you were to travel HWY 24 from just north of Lawrence, Kansas, westward towards Topeka, St. Mary’s, Wamego, Manhattan, Clay Center, Beloit, Osborne, Stockton, and a bit beyond, you would arrive in Nicodemus, Kansas. You may also follow HWY 18 westward out of Manhattan, traveling through many of the small towns where my paternal first and second great-grand-parents settled and lived after the Civil War, including Lincoln and Barnard, Kansas. I have a third-cousin who still farms 360 acres just north of Barnard.
 
The value that Bob Dole embraced in the story of Nicodemus is one that we can all embrace, because it is the story of many American families and immigrants. A Pilgrimage of Churches was written as a celebration and a remembrance of the pioneers who settled across the Great Plains in the years following the Civil War.  The final paragraph in the book’s preface offers this thanksgiving for a heritage that still endures today. 
 
“A Pilgrimage of Churches is one person’s answer to the landscape of the Great Plains, flowing from Canada to the Coastal Plains of Texas, and the people who live there, who work the land, and who worship together in community on the Sabbath. These communities hold a rich heritage of faith and devotion that is an American story. It is a story we hold in common and share with many other Americans, whose families pioneered and settled the land generations before us. My desire is to tell it with a Quaker simplicity and sincerity that honors my own family’s legacy. The poetry draws from a rich literary, artistic, and liturgical language, which reveals people of faith, and their intimate connection with the land that flourishes still, caring for and cultivating the American plains and prairies to help feed a Twenty-First Century world.”
 
“Nicodemus Rises” is the eleventh poem in A Pilgrimage of Churches, and it is intended to honor a community of African-Americans who through their labor and lives are still giving back to the nation something of great value. They are maintaining a heritage of faith and community we cannot easily measure, but value as a treasure. A heritage that we can hope they will pass on to their children and grandchildren, and great grandchildren wherever they may go on their own journey of life.  We remember the past and hold it dear as a remembrance because the past shapes us as a people and as individuals. Out this remembrance of family and faith we shape our identities, we add value to our own lives. This is why it is so important, as Bob Dole observed, for us to preserve the richness of that historical and cultural heritage.
 
We live in a divided land where it seems impossible most of time for us to cherish such a heritage and value one another as a people. We have forgotten that the American story, is a story that we all share and are writing together still. How we see one another matters, how we speak to one another matters, how we view and honor our common humanity and heritage matters. How we value the diversity of America and who we are as a Melting Pot & Fruit Salad of many people and cultures matters a great deal. Out of Many One — E Pluribus Unum.

As we take time to celebrate the life of a great American, who defended and honored American democracy his whole life, let us pause together in thoughtful accord. As fellow Americans; as one nation under God, let us make a new pledge of allegiance to treat one another with a greater respect and with a gentle openness the pioneer families discovered across the Great Plains and Tallgrass Prairies of America.  This openness and freedom was and is still, the dream that is America and what we want for all America. 
 
 
July 28, 2020 — Wall Street Journal Article on Nicodemus, Kansas
 

​“Here and There”
 
 
At the edge of blank reverie, there will always
be a field in sunlight, edged by woods, floating
several hills up from home, from the broken sidewalk
and grass of the first toddling footfalls that grew
in a few short years to running bursts across that field.
 
For each of us a field, a stoop, a street, a desert trail,
a box canyon, or concrete, concrete, concrete, a patch
of grass, all various and recognizable, the shaping places
before there was “before,” before we knew the dam
could be built or the dam could burst and our landscapes
would all change, no matter what of them we carried with us.
 
In my field, a brother and father walk alongside.
We are separate and together, each of us
finding our way in the company of the others,
and because of this, I know how to find my way
through uncertainties, no matter how long it takes.
 
 
Jane Creighton’s new book, Bone Skid, Bone Beauty (Saint Julian Press, September 1, 2021), is a stunning — and an almost completely unexpected — addition to the modern poetry bookshelf.  For all practical purposes, this is Creighton’s first book of poetry (her only prior publication — Ceres In an Open Field (Out & Out Books, 1980) — appeared more than forty years ago at a time when Creighton was a very different writer).  Put slightly differently, Bone Skid arrives in our hands with little or no prior warning almost fifty years after Creighton graduated from college.
 
It is well worth the wait.  As our featured poem illustrates, Creighton is a poet of many talents, capable of evoking images with great economy (“the edge of blank reverie”, “the first toddling footfalls”, “the shaping places / before there was “‘before’”), while foreshadowing the pain and disappointment of life and giving us emotional nourishment for the journey.  
 
Here she is in a delicate rhymed sonnet, imagining what it would have been like to be a mother:
 
         It could have gone the other way.  I could
         have said:   “I’ll have this baby,” lifted up
         those heavy breasts — a song to life — and stood
         to thicken in the heat, cursed and cupped
         the pleasing turn of body into bearer
         and helped myself to more of what I thought
         my mother bore.  So now some mornings rarer
         than the moon’s fertile trace, I plot
         elusive breath, a syllable, bare wit
         and other things it might have said, its voice
         skittery in breaking light, the kid
         who’d mirror me, or not.  Alert or coy.
         I might have had a daughter, or a son.
         I might have run my mother’s race, and won.
 
 
“Weight and Measure. 1.”
 
Several of her most successful poems celebrate the lives and personalities of those around her in unexpected ways.  Here, for example, is a dreamscape poem of her deceased father — or is it someone else? — still running the show:
 
 
Though dead, he still directs the funeral.  Always quiet,
he gets his way through suggestion, a gesture,
the tilt of his head.  Before you know it
you find yourself scuttling down his path,
all business, ready to do whatever he says.
 
So here he is, skin and bones, his mouth
a toothless O, lifeless but for these last orders:
Put this box here.  Arrange the folding chairs thus.
Those bowls of daffodils?  Along the windowsill,
a hedge to natural light.
                                       But as the place begins
to fill, he grows anxious and recedes
into the still air behind the Victorian couch
where no one ever goes.  “Too many people,”
says the fading voice.  “Get them out.” . . .
 
 
“Lake Dreams, Annaghmakerrig. 3.”
 
Creighton’s poems sparkle with exquisite bursts of magical description.
 
 
. . . Such is the rocky pasture of early evening.  A mind
just hours ago paddling toward the riverbank path
that leads through pastel fields abundant with a soft
and satisfied wealth, now picks its pace
through a glimmering redness, burnt packages
of ideas that nevertheless court hope
in their rapid demise.
 
 
“My Village.”
 
 
         What will be left of gravity
         and bone once the road this girl walks
         opens skyward?  She’ll skid, vertiginous
         to her toes (how she loves
         that word), and if she floats
         down a steep hill looking up?
         You might, in the deep purple
         jungle of your lungs, breathe out
         a warning just loud enough
         for her not to hear.  Nobody 
         knows the rules. . . .
 
 
“The Woman You Once Will Be.”
 
Lurking in Creighton’s poetry is a sense that people are a bit of a puzzlement for her:
 
 
         Not enough of them in these poems.
         Always a random thought, or animal
         or vegetable, or someone’s elbow shove,
         the sprint around the corner, gone.
 
         Where do they go, these people?
         Why will you not summon them? . . .
         
 
         It’s hard to tell about people, what good
         they will try to do, or what ill.  Or
         what it feels to be one of them,
         to be captive, to be captor.
 
 
“People.”
 
 
         . . . Do not speak to the driver,
         do not even notice him.
         He has his job
         and you have yours:
         You are to look for the in-
         between, borders and edges,
         the postings between this life
         and that, a woman hailing 
         a cab who calls forth, instead,
         a storm of curses
         from a frail and aging woman
         who might be her mother
 
         or yours, renamed as a stranger
         to remind you that no matter
         how well you think you know
         someone, chances are
         she’s holding something back . . . 
 
 
“Lake Dreams, Blue Mountain. 2.”
 
But in the end, it is people — and her love for them — that carries Creighton through:
 
 
         Let me have the love it takes
         to live inside this dream where you
         and you and you and you are walking
         a road.  It leads down to a lake
         I know, banked by granite boulders
         and pine, and I am also with you
         and you and you and you walking
         one by one and together, as if
         we had all, always, been friends
         who loved one another
         in the same place, at the same time.

Reprinted from: https://carlmjenkspoetrycorner.com
 
For Further Reading:  Bone Skid, of course.  (In case you are wondering, Creighton is Professor of English at the University of Houston — Downtown, where she has taught for 24 years.)
 
For Further Watching:  Kirk Lawrence’s delicate reading of our featured poem.   https://youtu.be/w0sUHJsFj9Y