Category: Uncategorized
What’s In a Name ?
Regrettable, Shortsighted and Plain Wrong
Song for Today #15
Such a great lyric, and timeless. Folk song written by Hamilton Camp, but this version by Quicksilver Messenger Service gives it the full on rock treatment with fantastic guitar work by John Cippolina
Turn around, go back down, back the way you came
Can’t you see that flash of fire ten times brighter than the day
And behold a mighty city broken in the dust again
Oh God, pride of man broken in the dust again
Turn around, go back down, back the way you came
Babylon is laid to waste, Egypt’s buried in her shame
Their mighty men are all beaten down their kings are fallen in the way
Oh God, pride of man broken in the dust again
Turn around, go back down, back the way you came
Terror is on every side, lo our leaders are dismayed
All those who place their faith in fire, in fire their fate shall be repaid
Oh God, pride of man broken in the dust again
Turn around, go back down back the way you came
And shout a warning unto the nation that the sword of God is raised
On Babylon that mighty city, rich in treasures, wide in fame
Oh God, pride of man broken in the dust again
The meek shall cause your tower to fall and make of you a pyre of flame
Oh, you who dwell on many waters rich in treasure, wide in fame
You bow unto your god of gold your pride of might shall be your shame
For only God can lead his people back unto the earth again
Oh God, pride of man broken in the dust again
Your holy mountain be restored
Have, mercy on the people
The people, Lord.
If you have been back a few times …
Song for Today #14
The taller I become
The farther you take my rights away
The faster I will run
You can deny me
You can decide to turn your face away
No matter, cos there’s….
Something inside so strong
I know that I can make it
Tho’ you’re doing me wrong, so wrong
You thought that my pride was gone
Oh no, something inside so strong
Oh oh oh oh oh something inside so strong
The more you refuse to hear my voice
The louder I will sing
You hide behind walls of Jericho
Your lies will come tumbling
Deny my place in time
You squander wealth that’s mine
My light will shine so brightly
It will blind you
Cos there’s……
Something inside so strong
I know that I can make it
Tho’ you’re doing me wrong, so wrong
You thought that my pride was gone
Oh no, something inside so strong
Oh oh oh oh oh something inside so strong
Brothers and sisters
When they insist we’re just not good enough
When we know better
Just look ’em in the eyes and say
I’m gonna do it anyway [x4]
Something inside so strong
And I know that I can make it
Tho’ you’re doing me wrong, so wrong
You thought that my pride was gone
Oh no, something inside so strong
Oh oh oh oh oh something inside so strong
Brothers and sisters
When they insist we’re just not enough
When we know better
Just look ’em in the eyes and say
I’m gonna do it anyway [x4]
Because there’s something inside so strong
And I know that I can make it
Tho’ you’re doing me, so wrong
Oh no, something inside so strong
Oh oh oh oh oh something inside so strong
Black Lives Matter in Gloucester
Song for Today #13
Talking About Suffering
I stand by the bed where a young woman lies, her face post-operative, her mouth twisted in palsy; clownish. A tiny twig of the facial nerve, the one to the muscles of her mouth, has been severed. She will be thus from now on. The surgeon had followed with religious fervor the curve of her flesh; I promise you that. Nevertheless, to remove the tumor from her cheek, I had to cut the little nerve. Her young husband is in the room. He stands on the opposite side of the bed, and together they seem to dwell in the evening lamplight, isolated from me, private. Who are they, I ask myself, he and this wry-mouth I have made, who gaze at and touch each other so generously, greedily?
“Will my mouth always be like this?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say, “it will be. It is because the nerve was cut.”
She nods and is silent. But the young man smiles. “I like it,” he says. “It is kind of cute.”
All at once I know who he is. I understand, and I lower my gaze. One is not bold in an encounter with a god. Unmindful, he bends to kiss her crooked mouth, and I am so close I can see how he twists his own lips to accommodate her, to show her that their kiss still works.
Richard Selzer
Stories for the Heart compiled by Alice Gray (Portland: Multnomah Press, 1996), p. 53.
Which takes me to the cross on which Jesus is crucified. It is as if, in his willing suffering, he is twisting his own life to the marks of suffering in the totality of all our lives. The cross is a holy moment in which Christ kisses the world with love.
Which brings me to a difficult moment, when I wonder if we have got something really wrong ?
Christian art has, in most of the Christian era, allowed the depiction of Christ on the cross. From about the 10th century on, the image that came to be prominent was the crucifixion.
By contrast, some interpretations of Islam prohibit the depiction of living beings maybe partly to do with idolatry. I now wonder if that might have been a better route ?
Might there be something profoundly dangerous in trying to convey this holy moment in paintings, sculptures, poems, theological reflection, hymn writing etc.
Perhaps we don’t go as far as disallowing it, but rather say that it must not be undertaken lightly, but reverently and with deep respect.
