Sunday, July 9, 2017
Sunday, July 2, 2017
Saturday, July 1, 2017
PSALM 34 (35)
Judge, O Lord, my enemies,
fight against those
who do battle with me.
Take up shield and spear
and rise to my aid.
Unsheathe your sword
and harry from the front
those who pursue me.
Say to my soul,
"I am your salvation."
Let those who seek my life
be shamed and awed,
let those who plan
evil against me
be turned back
in confusion,
let them be as dust
before the face of the wind,
and may the angel of the Lord
drive them.
Let their way be dark
and slippery, and let the angel
of the Lord pursue them.
For without reason they hid
their insidious snares for me,
without cause they dug
a pit for my life.
Let come to him
a calamity unknown,
and may the net that he hid
catch him, and may he
fall into the snare.
But my soul will exult
in the Lord,
and will rejoice
in his salvation.
All my bones will say,
"Lord, who is like you,
delivering the needy
from those more powerful,
and the poor and beggars
from those who despoil them?"
False witnesses rose against me,
asking me things that I did not know,
they returned evil to me for good,
and desolation to my soul.
But I, when they troubled me,
put on sackcloth,
I humbled my soul with fasting,
and my prayer shall return
to my breast.
I behaved as a friend,
as a brother,
I was bent with sadness
as one mourning his mother,
and they took joy in my infirmity
and gathered around,
stabbers gathered against me
and I did not know it,
slashers, and they did not
stay silent, but in simulation
of false words they gnashed
their teeth against me.
How long, O Lord,
will you look on?
Deliver my soul from
their calamities,
and my life from the lions.
I shall acknowledge you
in the great congregation,
and in the midst of a strong people
I shall praise you.
Let not my lying enemies
rejoice over me,
nor wink the eye
those who hate me
without cause.
For they do not speak peace,
but in pillaging the land
conceive words of deceit.
They opened their mouths against me,
saying, "good, good, our eyes have seen it."
You saw, O Lord,
do not stay silent.
O Lord, do not be far from me.
Rise up and attend to my judgment,
O my Lord and my God,
to my case.
Judge me according to your righteousness,
O Lord my God,
and let them not insult me,
let them not say in their hearts,
"good, we have our soul's desire,"
let them not say,
"we have swallowed him up."
Let them blush and be in awe,
those who rejoice at my affliction.
Let those who magnify themselves
above me dress in bashfulness and shame.
Let those who desire my vindication
give praise and be glad,
and let them say always
may the Lord be praised
who wishes peace
for his servant.,
and my tongue shall tell
your justice
and your praise
all the day.
Judge, O Lord, my enemies,
fight against those
who do battle with me.
Take up shield and spear
and rise to my aid.
Unsheathe your sword
and harry from the front
those who pursue me.
Say to my soul,
"I am your salvation."
Let those who seek my life
be shamed and awed,
let those who plan
evil against me
be turned back
in confusion,
let them be as dust
before the face of the wind,
and may the angel of the Lord
drive them.
Let their way be dark
and slippery, and let the angel
of the Lord pursue them.
For without reason they hid
their insidious snares for me,
without cause they dug
a pit for my life.
Let come to him
a calamity unknown,
and may the net that he hid
catch him, and may he
fall into the snare.
But my soul will exult
in the Lord,
and will rejoice
in his salvation.
All my bones will say,
"Lord, who is like you,
delivering the needy
from those more powerful,
and the poor and beggars
from those who despoil them?"
False witnesses rose against me,
asking me things that I did not know,
they returned evil to me for good,
and desolation to my soul.
But I, when they troubled me,
put on sackcloth,
I humbled my soul with fasting,
and my prayer shall return
to my breast.
I behaved as a friend,
as a brother,
I was bent with sadness
as one mourning his mother,
and they took joy in my infirmity
and gathered around,
stabbers gathered against me
and I did not know it,
slashers, and they did not
stay silent, but in simulation
of false words they gnashed
their teeth against me.
How long, O Lord,
will you look on?
Deliver my soul from
their calamities,
and my life from the lions.
I shall acknowledge you
in the great congregation,
and in the midst of a strong people
I shall praise you.
Let not my lying enemies
rejoice over me,
nor wink the eye
those who hate me
without cause.
For they do not speak peace,
but in pillaging the land
conceive words of deceit.
They opened their mouths against me,
saying, "good, good, our eyes have seen it."
You saw, O Lord,
do not stay silent.
O Lord, do not be far from me.
Rise up and attend to my judgment,
O my Lord and my God,
to my case.
Judge me according to your righteousness,
O Lord my God,
and let them not insult me,
let them not say in their hearts,
"good, we have our soul's desire,"
let them not say,
"we have swallowed him up."
Let them blush and be in awe,
those who rejoice at my affliction.
Let those who magnify themselves
above me dress in bashfulness and shame.
Let those who desire my vindication
give praise and be glad,
and let them say always
may the Lord be praised
who wishes peace
for his servant.,
and my tongue shall tell
your justice
and your praise
all the day.
Thursday, June 29, 2017
A liberdade do corpo
A liberdade do corpo
é tan importante como
a liberdade do alma,
porém infelizmente
é más escassa.
Freedom of the body
is as important as
freedom of the soul,
but unfortunately
there is less of it.
é tan importante como
a liberdade do alma,
porém infelizmente
é más escassa.
Freedom of the body
is as important as
freedom of the soul,
but unfortunately
there is less of it.
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
Life is Prolific
Life is prolific,
which is why we
are here.
Life is tenacious,
and tends to
persevere.
We resist,
persist,
and insist
on evolution.
We obey Life,
we live Life,
we are Life.
But we are not
the only Life.
which is why we
are here.
Life is tenacious,
and tends to
persevere.
We resist,
persist,
and insist
on evolution.
We obey Life,
we live Life,
we are Life.
But we are not
the only Life.
A vida é prolífica
[portunhol surenho]
A vida é prolífica,
por esso tamo cá.
A vida é tenaz,
y tende a perseverá.
Resistimo,
persistimo,
e insistimo
por la evolusón.
Obeímo a la vida,
vivimo a vida,
somo a vida.
Mas non somo
a única vida.
A vida é prolífica,
por esso tamo cá.
A vida é tenaz,
y tende a perseverá.
Resistimo,
persistimo,
e insistimo
por la evolusón.
Obeímo a la vida,
vivimo a vida,
somo a vida.
Mas non somo
a única vida.
Wednesday, June 21, 2017
Not Bread Alone
My life has been full
of religions and languages.
When I was five
(the four of us were living
in Mrs. Truitt's garage),
my mother told me it was time
for me to learn about God.
She sat, in a cross-legged
posture that I now know
as sukhásana,
at the foot of my little bed.
She said, "long, long ago,
so long ago that you can't
imagine it," (this was starting
to sound interesting to my unformed,
heathen brain)-- and she proceeded
to tell me about the passion
of Christ. I was disappointed,
and I remember thinking to myself,
"Oh no, not that old story again!"
I'm not making this up.
But remember that I was the product
of several (probably many)
lifetimes.
Still sitting on my cot,
my mother then taught me
to sing "Tantum Ergo,"
a famous and very literate
Latin benediction hymn
by Thomas Aquinas.
As it happened (my father
came in the door
while she was still singing
Tantum Ergo),
that was about it
for my early religious
education.
Later, I remember standing
by my mother's side at Mass,
and letting the rosary that dangled
from her fingers
coil into my palm,
while the priest in the pulpit
droned on. Bored, I remember thinking,
"I'll bet I'm not going to do this
when I grow up."
I knew, of course, that the price
for that might be hell,
but at the time it seemed
a small one.
As it turned out,
I was right.
In those days the Mass
was still in Latin,
a Latin that still
serves me well.
You had to eat fish on Fridays,
not the good kind
(my mother was afraid of the bones),
but either dry salmon patties
(cheap in those days)
or frozen fish sticks.
Even today, I can't look
at fish sticks.
In high school I taught myself Hebrew.
I must have been a good teacher,
because another love was born.
Later, I almost converted
to Judaism,
but it was not to be.
I learned Sanskrit by reading
the Bhagavad Gita,
but philosophically I agreed
more with Gymnosophists and Jains,
Nagas, Tantriks, and non-dualists
of every sort.
Now, as an old man,
I agree dietetically
with the Vaishnavas,
since neither they nor I
can eat onions.
I felt close to neo-pagans,
who satisfied my heathen
brain, and served up
respect for women
along with their cakes and ale.
Always, I loved ritual.
Give me candles and incense,
cakes and wine,
flowers and fruits of the season,
and I'll find a beautiful way
to use them.
All of these were, and are,
my friends.
All have some of the pieces
of the puzzle.
All have some of the words
by which we are to live,
and not by bread alone.
Only the Jews, though,
have matzo brei,
and crazy Hasidim
who dance and sing
for joy.
of religions and languages.
When I was five
(the four of us were living
in Mrs. Truitt's garage),
my mother told me it was time
for me to learn about God.
She sat, in a cross-legged
posture that I now know
as sukhásana,
at the foot of my little bed.
She said, "long, long ago,
so long ago that you can't
imagine it," (this was starting
to sound interesting to my unformed,
heathen brain)-- and she proceeded
to tell me about the passion
of Christ. I was disappointed,
and I remember thinking to myself,
"Oh no, not that old story again!"
I'm not making this up.
But remember that I was the product
of several (probably many)
lifetimes.
Still sitting on my cot,
my mother then taught me
to sing "Tantum Ergo,"
a famous and very literate
Latin benediction hymn
by Thomas Aquinas.
As it happened (my father
came in the door
while she was still singing
Tantum Ergo),
that was about it
for my early religious
education.
Later, I remember standing
by my mother's side at Mass,
and letting the rosary that dangled
from her fingers
coil into my palm,
while the priest in the pulpit
droned on. Bored, I remember thinking,
"I'll bet I'm not going to do this
when I grow up."
I knew, of course, that the price
for that might be hell,
but at the time it seemed
a small one.
As it turned out,
I was right.
In those days the Mass
was still in Latin,
a Latin that still
serves me well.
You had to eat fish on Fridays,
not the good kind
(my mother was afraid of the bones),
but either dry salmon patties
(cheap in those days)
or frozen fish sticks.
Even today, I can't look
at fish sticks.
In high school I taught myself Hebrew.
I must have been a good teacher,
because another love was born.
Later, I almost converted
to Judaism,
but it was not to be.
I learned Sanskrit by reading
the Bhagavad Gita,
but philosophically I agreed
more with Gymnosophists and Jains,
Nagas, Tantriks, and non-dualists
of every sort.
Now, as an old man,
I agree dietetically
with the Vaishnavas,
since neither they nor I
can eat onions.
I felt close to neo-pagans,
who satisfied my heathen
brain, and served up
respect for women
along with their cakes and ale.
Always, I loved ritual.
Give me candles and incense,
cakes and wine,
flowers and fruits of the season,
and I'll find a beautiful way
to use them.
All of these were, and are,
my friends.
All have some of the pieces
of the puzzle.
All have some of the words
by which we are to live,
and not by bread alone.
Only the Jews, though,
have matzo brei,
and crazy Hasidim
who dance and sing
for joy.
