Friday, February 08, 2013

After Thirty Years

After Thirty Years
David Budbill

Thirty years in one place.
Thirty vegetable gardens in the same soil.
Thirty woodsheds filled and emptied.
Thirty years through the woods and mountains
on the same trails.
This is an age of frantic travel and people think
I am a fool for never going anywhere.
It's okay. I don't care.
In another time I would have been a sage
for doing what I haven't done.

Source: Moment to Moment
Photo by Brent

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Little White Church

Little White Church
 
               Eaton, NH, 1879

Us Free Will Baptists walked a thin tightwire,
a springing path out over the abyss.
We knew how a sudden April desire to dance
can topple you head over heels into the fire.

We knew how warmth exuded by a youth
singing at prayer meeting in a nearby seat
and inhaled deeply can inebriate
you to the point of renouncing the truth.

We lived repent-now-before-it's-too-late.
We didn't believe God forgives you, once and for all.
We knew how you can just turn around and fall,
of your own free will, how easy it is to doubt.

But there's no Free Willers left around this place
since the Phelps boy come back from Harvard talking 
   about Grace.

Marilyn Nelson is a newly elected Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets. She is the author of numerous collections of poetry, including Faster Than Light (Louisiana State University Press, 2012).

Monday, January 21, 2013

Light, Grace, Need...

Pale sunlight,
pale the wall.

Love moves away.
The light changes.

I need more grace
than I thought.

-- Rumi
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Photo by Brent

"Two women with the same claim..."

A Fable

Two women with
the same claim
came to the feet of
the wise king. Two women,
but only one baby.
The king knew
someone was lying.
What he said was
Let the child be
cut in half; that way
no one will go
empty-handed. He
drew his sword.
Then, of the two
women, one
renounced her share:
this was
the sign, the lesson.
Suppose
you saw your mother
torn between two daughters:
what could you do
to save her but be
willing to destroy
yourself— she would know
who was the rightful child,
the one who couldn't bear
to divide the mother.

"A Fable" by Louise Glück, from Ararat. © Harper Collins. Reprinted with permission. (buy now) 

From "The Writer's Almanac"

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Quakers Revitalization -- Come Chat About It!

QC Banner
 
This is a time of renewed interest in Quaker life and spirituality. This interest is shown by the number of Quaker titles on amazon.com (and their strong sales) and through other things, such as Beliefnet.com's "Belief-O-Matic." Thirty thousand people a day try Belief-O-Matic. An issue of Newsweek magazine reported that a "disproportionate number" of respondents to the quiz identified themselves as "liberal Quakers." The article notes that the page on the BeliefNet web site devoted to Quakers has become one of Beliefnet's top fifty links! So why aren't our Meetinghouses bursting with newcomers?
Join us at Quaker Center, January 25-27, for a weekend of spiritual reflection around this question and, more importantly, exploring God's future for Friends. It will be a time focused on positive language, idea generation, learning, sharing, videos, and more using interactive techniques and tools. You'll come away from this weekend with a fresh sense of God's working with and among us. Registration is open now for A Modest Proposal: Participating in God's Future for Friends at quakercenter.org.
ABOUT THE PROGRAM LEADER:
J. Brent Bill is the author of many articles and books, including Sacred Compass: The Way of Spiritual Discernment, Holy Silence: The Gift of Quaker Spirituality, Mind the Light, Learning to See with Spiritual Eyes, and the recently released Awaken Your Senses: Exercises for Exploring the Wonder of God. He also wrote A Modest Proposal for the Revitalization of the Quaker Message in the United States which has been the basis for a number of retreats across the United States.
Brent is a Quaker minister, author, photographer, and congregational consultant and the coordinator for FGC's New Meetings Project. Brent graduated from Wilmington College and the Earlham School of Religion and has worked as a local church pastor, yearly meeting staff member, and seminary faculty member. For eleven years he was the executive vice president of, and congregational consultant for, the Indianapolis Center for Congregations. The Center for Congregations is a project of Lilly Endowment, Inc and is dedicated to helping congregations find and use the resources they need to thrive.
Brent and his wife Nancy live on Ploughshares Farm, which is fifty acres of Indiana farmland that is being reclaimed for native hardwood forests and warm season prairie grasses.
Download Quaker Center's full 2013 program schedule here.
Yours in service,
Kathy and Bob Runyan
Co-Directors
Ben Lomond Quaker Center
 
 
 
 



Monday, January 14, 2013

Quakers and a Jackson Browne Quote that Applies (at least for me)

I'm a big fan of singer/songwriters.  And Jackson Browne's one of my favorites.  Recently I was listening to one of his solo live acoustic albums. When he's taking requests, a fan yells out for "Peaceful Easy Feeling."  Which, of course, is not a Jackson Browne song.  But he's game and gets ready to sing it (after pointing out he didn't write it) and then he says he has trouble with some of the lyrics, particularly in the section that goes:

And I found out a long time ago
What a woman can do to your soul.
Oh, but she can't take you anyway,
You don't already know how to go.


"Well," Browne said, "I flat out disagree with that."

I felt the same way when reading a couples of blogs written by Friends (and friends) the past week or so.  My first disagreement arose when I read David John's Quaker Life article titled "Moving Forward or Circling the Wagons."  David's a thoughtful Quaker theologian and the article has some good points, such as "There are numerous occasions inviting us to examine our identity and our purpose" and "embodying [the Testimonies] means we move as Christ calls us and enter the places where living these convictions takes us."

But when he writes "But one thing is certain: God is not calling us to be Quakers," "Well," Brent said, "I flat out disagree with that."

Strongly.  Perhaps that is true for David and some others, but it's not true for me -- and others I know.  Some of us do feel that God is calling us to be Quakers.  That's why we are Quakers -- we felt called to it, led to it, introduced to a way of faith that spoke to our condition in a manner that no other form of Christianity did.  I grew up a Friend -- but it was in college that I became convinced that this was the faith tradition for me.  And that was not just some intellectual assent.  It felt like then -- and remains to this day -- a call.  I am called to be a Quaker.  I think the RSoF is being called by God to be Quaker.

I do not say that being Quaker is about preserving Quakerism and its institutions, but rather living out a particular faith tradition that speaks to our conditions -- and to which we can invite others seeking for a vital, living faith that has emphasis on both personal encounters with God and practicing the results of those encounters in the wider world.

Another blog (especially the title!) that pricked my spirit was Micah Bale's "Being Quaker Is Not the Point."  "Well," Brent said again, "I flat out disagree with that."  For me, being Quaker is precisely the point.  That's because my understanding of what it means to be a Quaker encompasses embodying "the living presence of his [Jesus'] Spirit."  Again, I am not concerned with preserving an "-ism" or it's institutions, but I think the Quaker message and the way it impacts our daily lives of faith and practice can be a profound experience of faith for those of us who claim to be Quaker and on those who are seeking for a faith that "brings them to Christ and leaves them there," as George Fox said.  Oops, I'll probably get in trouble for invoking Fox instead of Jesus, but heavens to Betsy (not Betsy Ross), what an amazing concept.  Introduce seekers (and ourselves?!) to Quaker faith whereby they experience the life-changing power of the ever-living and ever-loving Christ who can speak to their condition.  A faith that is not some goofy new-age concoction but is rooted in Christian practice and faithful adherence by saints (and sinners) for over 350 years! 

I, for one, want a faith that is both lived in the present condition of my life and grounded in tradition.  And so, for me, being Quaker is the point.  It speaks to my spiritual condition -- and, I am finding in my ministry of writing books about spirituality and at FGC in nurturing the start of new Quaker worship groups and meetings, to others, too.  People are drawn to what the Quaker message and way stand for and so.  So much so that where groups do not exist, they want to create them. 

I find these ideas of not being called to be Quaker or the point is not to be Quaker offensive, hurtful, and dismissive of those of us who have intentionally and spiritually felt called to be Quaker, have made it a central point of our faith, and who have worked to spread that message as a main part of our message.  I find it dismissive of that great cloud of witnesses who have gone before us -- some of whom gave their lives for this message and way of faith life.  I find it dismaying and tinged with a touch of self-loathing. 

While I admit I am quickly approaching geezerhood (if not already there) and more prone than ever to curmudgeonliness, I don't think that's the reason these pieces bothered me.  In fact, I don't mind being bothered, or shaken, or challenged in my thinking.  They bothered me because of the reasons stated above.  If you do not feel that God is calling you to be Quaker or that being Quaker is not the point, then perhaps you're in the wrong place.  Perhaps some new movement based on your interpretation of what God's work in this day and age are is where you belong.  You can root it in your particular understanding of scripture, tradition (well, probably not tradition -- after all, shrines and looking backward are a bad thing), and what the face of faith looks like today.  Burn down the meetinghouses, erase a history of faithful Christians, deny the spiritual wisdom of a collective community that has written spiritually and prophetically for hundreds of years, and spurn authority outside of like-minded others.

"Well," Brent said, "I flat out disagree with that."

Sigh.

As for me, as I stated I do feel that I am called to the Quaker faith and its way of working in my life and the world.  I feel in the deepest parts of my soul that being Quaker is point.  And I will continue to work for the expansion of this way of faith and life.  Not -- just in case you haven't picked up on this, dear reader -- to save institutions or an "ism", but because it is a faith that has changed my life and still has the power to change others.  I will continue to write about the spiritual riches of this ancient/modern faith and its efficacy.  I will support those who labor in the fields which are white unto harvest. And I will go on bearing the name Quaker as a servant of the Living Christ who was not born yesterday, but is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow and continues to teach his people himself.

-- Brent

Wednesday, January 09, 2013

Shallow Small Group

Now this could be the kind of small group that would actually attract people to your congregation...

Friday, December 28, 2012

The Singing of Angels

The Singing of Angels

Howard Thurman

There must be always
remaining in every life,
some place for the singing of angels.

Some place for that
which in itself
is breathless and
beautiful.

Old burdens become lighter
deep and ancient wounds
lose much of their old hurting.

Despite all the crassness of life,
all the hardness and
harsh discords,
life is saved by
the singing of angels.

Source: The Mood of Christmas

 
"Study of a Winged Figure" by John Rush

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Gifts that keep on giving...

Gifts that keep on giving


You know when you unwrap them:
fruitcake is notorious. There were only
51 of them baked in 1917 by the
personal chef of Rasputin. The mad monk
ate one. That was what finally killed him

But there are many more bouncers:
bowls green and purple spotted like lepers.
Vases of inept majolica in the shape
of wheezing frogs or overweight lilies.
Sweaters sized for Notre Dame's hunchback.

Hourglasses of no use humans
can devise. Gloves to fit three-toed sloths.
Mufflers of screaming plaid acrylic.
Necklaces and pins that transform
any outfit to a thrift shop reject.

Boxes of candy so stale and sticky
the bonbons pull teeth faster than
your dentist. Weird sauces bought
at warehouse sales no one will ever
taste unless suicidal or blind.

Immortal as vampires, these gifts
circulate from birthdays to Christmas,
from weddings to anniversaries.
Even if you send them to the dump,
they resurface, bobbing up on the third

day like the corpses they call floaters.
After all living have turned to dust
and ashes, in the ruins of cities
alien archeologists will judge our
civilization by these monstrous relics.

"Gifts that keep on giving" by Marge Piercy, from The Hunger Moon. © Knopf, 2012. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)
 
From the "Writer's Alamanac"

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Anti-Christmas Limericks: A Little Un-Christmas Cheer

Five Limericks Against Christmas


Old Fellow of Dallas

There was an old fellow of Dallas
Who was filled with atheist malice
And on Christmas Eve
He cried, "I don't believe"
To small children, which was terribly callous.

Old Dame of Westchester

There was an old dame of Westchester
A nasty Christmas molester
Who took refuse and piled it
By the Christ child
And police were called to arrest her

Old Man of Seattle

There was an old man of Seattle
Engaged in atheist battle
At a living nativity
He got so livid he
Wrestled the sheep and the cattle

Three Girls of Vermont

There were three girls of Vermont
Atheists just like their aunt
The family was famous
For no Adoramus
And avoiding the baptismal fount

Old Man of Blue Hill

There was an old man of Blue Hill
Who when church was quiet and still
At Christmas Eve mass
Liked to pass gas
Toward a candle, just for the thrill


"Five Limericks Against Christmas," by Anonymous. Reprinted with permission of the poet.
 
From "The Writer's Almanac"

Monday, December 17, 2012

Bridge...

Bridge

Most of my life was spent
building a bridge out over the sea
but the sea was too wide and it didn't
go anyplace. I'm proud of the bridge
hanging in the pure sea air. Machado
came for a visit and we sat on the
end of the bridge which was his idea.
Now that I'm old the work goes slowly
but the material keeps coming as I hang
here in the air. Ever nearer death I like
it out here high above the sea bundled
up for the arctic storms of late fall,
the resounding crash and moan of the sea,
the hundred foot depth of the green troughs.
Sometimes the sea roars and howls like
the animal it is, a continent wide and alive.
What beauty in this the darkest music
which imitates the sky's thunder
over which you can hear the lightest music of human
behavior, the tender connection between men and galaxies.
So I sit on the edge, wagging my feet above
the abyss, the fatal plummet. Tonight the moon
will be in my lap. This is my job, to study
the universe from my bridge. I have the sky, the sea,
the faint green streak of Canadian forest on the far shore.

"Bridge" by Jim Harrison. Reprinted with permission of the poet.
 
From "The Writer's Almanac"

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Slaughter and Love: A Poem In Response to Sandy Hook

This is no time for a child to be born,
With the earth betrayed by war and hate
And a nova lighting the sky to warn
That time runs out and the sun burns late.

That was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome;
Honour and truth were trampled by scorn—
Yet here did the Saviour make his home.

When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on the planet earth,
And by greed and pride the sky is torn
Love still takes the risk of birth.

Madeleine L’Engle’s “The Risk of Birth”
copyright 1974 Madeleine L'Engle
In this time of darkness following the senseless slaughter of the innocents in Sandy Hook (and other children whose bodies are ripped apart by war and disease and hunger around the world), I am grateful that Love still takes the risk of birth.  Let us all, especially those of us who endeavor to follow the Prince of Peace risk loving and working for peace.  Let us incarnate the almighty Love and Light of God in a world seemingly filled with hatred and darkness.  May the God of Love and Light bless us -- the broken-hearted, the down-trodden, the safe in our cozy homes -- everyone.
 
With love,

Brent

Thursday, December 13, 2012

SIlence and the Urban Desert

"The crowded bus, the long queue, the railway platform, the traffic jam, the neighbor's television sets, the heavy-footed people on the floor above you, the person who still keeps getting the wrong number on your phone. These are the real conditions of your desert. Do not allow yourself to be irritated. Do not try to escape. Do not postpone your prayer. Kneel down. Enter that disturbed solitude. Let your silence be spoiled by those sounds. It is the beginning of your desert."
Alessandro Pronzato  -- Meditations on the Sand

Photo by Brent

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

The Innocence Mission has a New CD!

NEW RELEASE
A new album from Karen Peris, called Violet, is now available for purchase
as an immediate download, directly from our
webshop
as well as
iTunes, Amazon.com, emusic, etc.


CDs are now available - click here

"While we have been working on a new (the innocence mission) record, we've also enjoyed making recordings of a group of songs that seemed to belong together on a separate album. They were all written on piano. Some have words and are sung. I guess that's a bit redundant, unless we consider the possibility that they could have been rap songs. Well, anyway, about half the songs are sung, with piano and with beautiful guitar parts from Don. And the other half are piano, or piano and pump organ, and some other instruments. My instruments are all fairly old and NOISY, so Don gets a special award for most patient and excellent engineer. He worked so meticulously to record my old spinet and little field (pump) organ. The accordion was the funny last straw, it's started to sound like a giant bowl of rice crispies, so it is having a small rest. I'm thrilled that our children have added wonderful violin and viola parts to two of the songs. So I've had tremendous help with this record, which is called Violet, and it really has been a joy to make" .-Karen
 
I've ordered mine!

Thursday, December 06, 2012

then the rain came...

Rain

Woke up this morning with
a terrific urge to lie in bed all day
and read. Fought against it for a minute.

Then looked out the window at the rain.
And gave over. Put myself entirely
in the keep of this rainy morning.

Would I live my life over again?
Make the same unforgiveable mistakes?
Yes, given half a chance. Yes.

"Rain" by Raymond Carver, from The Collected Poems. © Knopf, 1996. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)
 
From "The Writer's Almanac"

The Gift of Books

Though it's hard to believe, there are less than three weeks left until Christmas.   And, like me, you may be searching for the perfect present.  How about giving a book?  And I'm happy to help you in that regard.

From now until December 20th, if you order one of the books below directly from me, I'll throw in:
  1. a free autograph and/or personalization (that's a $0 value!)
  2. a free copy of "Mind the Light: Learning to See With Spiritual Eyes" (list price is $14.95)
  3. free shipping (my way of supporting the USPS). 
Just send me an email at brentbil@brentbill.com to work out the money exchange details. 

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Awaken Your Senses: Exercises for Exploring the Wonder of God -- In Awaken Your Senses, co-author Beth Booram and and I invite you to engage your right brain in your faith through sensory spiritual practices that position your heart for divine encounter.  $15.

Holy Silence: The Gift of Quaker Spirituality -- For centuries, Quakers have taught that when we are silent, God grants us insights, guidance, and spiritual understanding that is different from what we might realize in our noisy, everyday lives. This book invites you to discover this and other unique gifts of the Quaker way. $15.

Sacred Compass: The Way of Spiritual Discernment -- Sacred Compass offers a fresh and deeper way of living a God-directed life by drawing on the quiet beauty of the Quaker path to show how spiritual discernment is more about sensing God’s gracious presence than it is about making the right decisions.  $14

Imagination and Spirit: A Contemporary Quaker Reader -- The influence of the Quakers have far exceeded their perennially small membership, especially in terms of the written word.  Here's a sampling that graciously introduces Quaker faith to Friends and non-Friends alike.  $19.

If you order multiple copies of the same title, there's the amazing "Holiday Multiple Copy Super Discount" available.

Other of my books (classics?), such as "Stay Tuned," "Cruisin' and Choosin'", are available in limited quantities at exhorbitant rare volume prices. 

Happy Holidays!


Wednesday, December 05, 2012

Remembered Light

by Clark Ashton Smith


The years are a falling of snow,
Slow, but without cessation,
On hills and mountains and flowers and worlds that were;
But snow and the crawling night in which it fell
May be washed away in one swifter hour of flame.
Thus it was that some slant of sunset
In the chasms of piled cloud--
Transient mountains that made a new horizon,
Uplifting the west to fantastic pinnacles-
Smote warm in a buried realm of the spirit,
Till the snows of forgetfulness were gone.

Clear in the vistas of memory,
The peaks of a world long unremembered,
Soared further than clouds, but fell not,
Based on hills that shook not nor melted
With that burden enormous, hardly to be believed.
Rent with stupendous chasms,
Full of an umber twilight,
I beheld that larger world.

Bright was the twilight, sharp like ethereal wine
Above, but low in the clefts it thickened,
Dull as with duskier tincture.
 
 
 

Friday, November 30, 2012

Tree Bones

Vertical


Perhaps the purpose
of leaves is to conceal
the verticality
of trees
which we notice
in December
as if for the first time:
row after row
of dark forms
yearning upwards.
And since we will be
horizontal ourselves
for so long,
let us now honor
the gods
of the vertical:
stalks of wheat
which to the ant
must seem as high
as these trees do to us,
silos and
telephone poles,
stalagmites
and skyscrapers.
But most of all
these winter oaks,
these soft-fleshed poplars,
this birch
whose bark is like
roughened skin
against which I lean
my chilled head,
not ready
to lie down.

"Vertical" by Linda Pastan, from Traveling Light. © Norton, 2010. Reprinted with the permission. (buy now)
 
From the Writer's Almanac.
Photo by Brent Bill

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

"There's a thread you follow..."

The Way It Is
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.


---William Stafford, The Way It Is

Hands...

Taking the Hands


Taking the hands of someone you love,
You see they are delicate cages . . .
Tiny birds are singing
In the secluded prairies
And in the deep valleys of the hand.

"Taking the Hands" by Robert Bly, from Silence in the Snowy Fields. © Wesleyan University Press. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)
 
From "The Writer's Almanac"