If Jesus can be an apple tree, He can be a thunderstorm...
  • NihilNominisNihilNominis
    Posts: 876
    A poem about liturgy and life that I wrote this morning:

    ==================================

    Watch a storm roll in.
    The sky darkens on the horizon,
    thunderclaps in the distance,
    the winds pick up,
    the temperature drops,
    light rain begins to fall,
    and, imperceptibly,
    it is upon you.

    Then, the denouement,
    the rain is still intense,
    but the thunderclaps are less
    and farther away.
    Then the rain lightens,
    and the sky brightens,
    and the wind dies down,
    and you enter a new world
    transfigured by rain and sun.

    We view the world through lenses
    with a pace and at a speed
    that was never meant for us.
    What we have built,
    the metaverse we have created
    since the first book was written,
    the first edition printed,
    the first photograph taken,
    the first film captured,
    the first computer networked,
    is a far cry from the quiet,
    patient,
    slow-paced world
    for which we were built,
    and which was built for us.

    The noise cannot be drowned out
    with more noise,
    pleasant noise --
    because the problem is not
    that the noise needs drowned out.

    The problem is that
    the noise drowns us out,
    keeps our heads below water
    that is rising even as we swim up
    and up and up, but never fast enough
    to reach the top,
    like trying to scroll to the bottom
    of an endless newsfeed
    on a social media platform
    of your choice (but you don't have a choice).

    When I first met the Latin Mass
    (we really hit it off)
    I found an act of worship
    that was not conceived
    with the cold efficiency
    of a business meeting
    or the awkward conviviality
    of dinner with extended family,
    but rather a place
    where the King of Kings
    enters again this world of ours
    as he did before,
    like a thunderstorm

    slowly, deliberately,
    with silence
    and with regal sound,
    in solemn majesty,
    portended in a thousand subtle ways,
    and upon you imperceptibly,
    leaving all before and behind
    transfigured.

    Like a thunderstorm:
    not narrated,
    not explained,

    Like a thunderstorm:
    needing no introduction.

    Like a thunderstorm:
    making no apology.
  • francis
    Posts: 10,145
    @NihilNominis

    [I hear you]


    ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


    in the distance

    .....................one hears

    .........................................a gentle roll...

    ...and minutes later

    .............................one more ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ...gentle roll...

    ...and then

    ......................nothing.
    .
    .
    .
    .
    .
    .
    .
    .
    in the distance

    .....................one sees

    .........................................a single dim flash...

    (just one...)

    ...........................one waits

    ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,and waits,
    .
    .
    .........................................................but nothing.
    .
    .
    .
    .
    .

    IT IS Gone.
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,
    ,

    ========================

    For you are not come to a mountain
    that might be touched,
    and a burning fire,
    and a whirlwind,
    and darkness,
    and storm,
    And the sound of a trumpet,
    and the voice of words,
    which they that heard excused themselves,
    that the word might not be spoken to them:
    For they did not endure
    that which was said:
    And if so much as a beast shall touch the mount,
    it shall be stoned.

    But you are come to mount Sion,
    and to the city of the living God,
    the heavenly Jerusalem,
    and to the company of many thousands of angels,
    And to the church of the firstborn,
    who are written in the heavens,
    and to God the judge of all,
    and to the spirits
    of the just made perfect,
    And to Jesus
    the mediator of the new testament,
    and to the sprinkling of blood
    which speaketh better than that of Abel.
    See that you refuse him not that speaketh.
    For if they escaped not who refused him
    that spoke upon the earth,
    much more shall not we,
    that turn away from him
    that speaketh to us from heaven.

    Therefore receiving
    an immoveable kingdom,
    we have grace;
    whereby let us serve,
    pleasing God,
    with fear and reverence.
    For our God
    is a consuming fire.