On Exaltation

Exaltation needs not height nor depth,
It comes from conversation deep within,
And links to any sound or sight at all.

Walk down a crowded street, talk with Abba,
Then look for Abba in each passing face,
Talk with Abba, look for Abba, see,
Your joy and exaltation bubble up.
Exaltation is a mark of oneness,
Of knowing you and Abba can be one.

You know the simple prayer I gave to all,
You cannot fill the hours with one prayer;
But neither should you create formal tomes.

Seize exaltation where it lives and breathes --
Inside of you when you seek Abba there;
Outside of you as you go everywhere.

Exaltation interacts with life,
It is an eye for all that is alive;
Alive means Abba inside everyone,
And exaltation comes as this is known

Don't strain to be exalted, heavens no!
Don't make it into some dramatic show.

Out of your solitude, train senses to
Know more and more of Abba day by day,
And to live more and more in Abba's grace,
And to sense Abba's power in every place.

Exaltation leaves you laughing happily
It is a step, or skip, toward being free.

On Lonesomeness

Today I wish to speak of lonesomeness:
Lonesomeness does not mean being alone;
Lonesomeness is more a lasting state,
That only ends when Abba is embraced.
.
Then lonely is a simple need for touch,
And lonesomeness a state that is no more.

Too simple? Yes, I do believe that's so.
For lonesomeness has layers broad and deep,
And its effects can be disastrous.
For lonesomeness arises from strong fears.
In broadest terms it is a loss of place,
A loss of feeling tied to everyone.
Once no man was an island, but no more.
Once there were shores and boundaries, but no more.

Even the bars of language start to fade,
And definition seeks some new context,
And no one really knows what happens next.

And yet we know the care we thought we had
Is hardly care at all -- it has no life.
We witness waves of accident and death,
In small or large, it makes no difference.
We live now side by side with genocide.

The fabric of community so frayed,
That we can hardly know a valid way.

The valid way I offer you have heard:
It is the only cure for lonesomeness.
Abba within is within everyone,
Beyond belief or will or promises;
Abba within is this -- it simply is.

Do not be judge of this in others' eyes,
Assuming it's not there if you can't see.
Do not walk back and forth and moralize,
This one is bourgeois, this one is OK.

Accept and wait until the truth is known,
Not with displays, mass shouts or festivals;
Let knowledge, hearing, actions be your guide,
And if connection languishes move on.
To dwell on misconnection makes no sense,
Accept, move on, beyond your lonesomeness
.
Here is one reason why my time is now:
To stave off waves of lonesomeness and angst;
Not with sweet doses of naivete,
But with these words of old stripped of their age --

The good news once is still the good news now,
Perhaps a better news for all our pains:

The realm of Abba's here. It is at hand.
Turn, turn, turn, turn, accept and all is well.

And yet I know you well enough to know
You seek a proof. You seek some form of show.

How long must you know Abba is within,
Before the light of this close tie is seen?
I tell you some days it will be high, bright,
And other days it will show, but low light.
Still I say Abba always is within;
Each day you fail see is one day lost.

But even that is wrong, for Abba holds
You in the deepest love when you see not.
.
We whirl like bits or flour in a bowl
Afraid that we'll all be submerged and lost
But here: The gift I give can save you now.

Your lonesomeness is ended. Take the prize!

Abba is deep within you. Take your stand.

Step out, reach out, go out, stretch out a hand.

Turn lonesomeness to lonely, then you're free.
Acknowledge lonely, see it cease to be.

On Prayer

I offer but one single prayer to you;
It is the one I offered once, still said.
But somewhat changed, so I will change it too

Each person has a prayer or two inside;
Pray keep them there, for prayers are not for show.
How they became so, ask the priests, not me;
Tome upon tome of words, no privacy.

A prayer is your compact with Abba now,
Abba within, a single tie affirmed.

Here is a way that you can say it now:

Abba whose home in heaven is
Hallowed and holy is your name
Let your realm come your will be done
'Till earth and heaven are the same

Give us this day our daily bread
Forgive the wrongs that we have done
As we forgive those who do wrong
Lead us not into temptation

Deliver us from evil, Lord
And guide us safely to your shore
Yours is the power to heal and mend
Yours is the glory evermore

(In point of fact, I sing these lines out loud,
In elevators, on the street, in crowds.
Not so the world can hear my dulcet tones,
But out of joy or need or just because.)

Let me explain the ending, lest you ask,
Why would I call a friend inside you Lord?
A prayer need only be the slightest nod;
Still Abba may be called the the Lord of all
For as we do befriend our Abba now,
We open up the total scope of all;
And come, in time, to trust its tendencies,
Without claiming to know its mysteries.

Priests took upon their shoulders knowing's weight,
And spun for all their bland cosmologies;
And earth became the residence of fools,
Instead of what makes sense, the home of schools.

We come from accident or will somehow,
And our awareness rises as we grow;
And life for each is knowing Abba's ways,
Or being deaf and dumb to life itself.

If I say, Heaven is where Abba lives,
I speak of where you can live, if you will.
If I say, Hallowed, holy be a name,
Hallowed and holy is the state we seek.

If I say, Your realm come, your will be done,
I merely preface what the next line says;
To wit: Let earth and heaven be the same.

Our daily bread: the need is plain enough
Less plain, our simple power to share with all.
Whence comes the prayer, Forgive our foolish ways;
And then, exactly what forgiveness takes.

That evil is, is never once denied,
Though half the time it is in our own eyes.
Get through the day with life intact, will do;
Keep your eye out and act with reason, too.

Abba can heal and, yes, Abba can mend;
And Abba's glory triumphs now and then.
And, yes, we trust its triumph in the end.

This is the substance of the only prayer I teach;
It is enough to say it to yourself.
Abba will hear. You need not speak a word.

I brought the Temple down once. It survives.
I'd rather that this simple teaching thrive.

On Apostates

The age of apostates is over now;
Religion's age was the apostate one.

Religion's age is over - all agree
Who rejects creeds rejects apostasy.

The struggle that now circles 'bout this globe
Is religion in its last death throes.
Those who practice simple tolerance,
I call their goodness non-idolatrous.

And what is non-idolatry but truth?
The highest of all values finally.
The name we give it: non-idolatry.
It was the highest at the very start.

"I am who I am," came from the flame.
And then came: "I will be who I will be."

Those who use religion murderously
Are the tag-end of idolatry.

Religion dies and Abba lives anew
Within each person, waiting for one prayer:
Seek, ask, knock and the way will open.

Still apostate seems real enough to some.
Apostate is a view the self absorbs
By turning teachings into formal creeds,
And buying into human absolutes.

Embrace a truth from which you fall away
And you're apostate, faithless, outcast, scorned
Writhe in the guilt of failure to live up.

That is not Abba's way, nor Abba's wish.

The opposite of apostate is free
Your deeds are your judge, not your beliefs

When masters of tradition claim the truth
Apostasy is built into their frame,
Along with institutions, laws and rules.

The master that you serve will rule your mind

Abba does not seek to rule your mind.
It is enough to use it! Use it well.

The opposite of apostate is free.
Your creativity is free to be.

The only proof the world needs is the light
That shines within when Abba answers prayer.
When one doffs all but Abba's graceful sway
The very word apostate fades away.

On Idols

Idols are both subtle and too plain;
The shrieking adulation of a star,
Some secret, guiding passion well-disguised,
A lethal, communal hypocrisy.

Worshiping goes with idolatry;
It is the act which gives our idols place.
The only ones who demand worshipping
Are Satan and perhaps insistent priests;
Otherwise it is an inner urge.

Subordinate yourself to things that you hold high?
A team, a lesser value, an idea?
Does Abba seek your worship?

No indeed.

Do I?

Not in a thousand centuries.

The very worst of results can be seen
In creeds and churches made to worship me.
Crusades and inquisitions and small thoughts;
Partial truths become oppressive laws.

I came to represent Abba as truth,
The One above whom nothing should be placed.
An idol is a human artifact,
Whether a thing, a person or belief.

The way we build suggests idolatry;
What we place first becomes our golden calf.
Come. Come with me to where Moses once stood
And heard the voice of Abba in the flame.

But he was not content to move along.
Who shall I say sent me? was his demand.
And Abba's answer is value's last stand.
First anger. Think of that. And listen well:
"Say, I Am sent you. I am who I am.
Say, I Am sent you. I'll be who I'll be."

All worship henceforth was idolatry!

You might say I am just an underline
Come to confirm that Abba is I Am.
Need you know more? You will not find it here.

Truth lies within you as the spark of life
Of freedom and of Abba's will-be-done.

Do not press farther, leave the apple be.
Accept the terms of life. And life itself.
Embrace the truth. Abba has but one rage.
And that is giving your worship away.
To serve Abba, give worship to NO thing.

Are lesser values worthy of your Yes?
They flow from Abba's being your good friend.
They are the values that the prophets sketched
In opposition to idolatry.

The words may differ but they coalesce.
Love justice, mercy and humility.
Bring lion to lie down beside the lamb.
No graven images, how plain is plain?
No murder, how obscure is that command?
What is false witness but idolatry?
For idol worship bows down before lies.

Ideas are idols, so are creeds and laws
When they are made the litmus test of truth.
Truth is between Abba and everyone,
Each living being on earth is Abba's home.

How can we stand against idolatry?
Value the mind and heart of all creatures.
Accept the sheer diversity of life.
Judge not that you be clear of the judgment.
And never see your own thought as The Truth.
Give Abba room to be Abba to you.

Ask, seek and knock and live in confidence
According every right to each and all.
For doing less denies that Abba lives.
Extend a helping hand to each and all
For this is Abba's will and Abba's wish.
And learn to live with what you cannot change,
For Abba's patience with us never ends.

Attune your mind to Abba, not idols.
That is the only value you must hold.
Without this everything is flame and dross.
But with it creativity has space.
And Abba's will may yet be done on earth.

On Being Ignored

Whenever you are seen as knowing much,
Or having wisdom, smarts or expertise,
You run the risk of being filled with pride
And then the risk of ending up ignored.

This is most true of those who would reform,
Whose brush is broad, who seek to change the world.

Expectations of your past go forth,
And woe to you if you do not conform.
Reject the image people have of you,
And it were better you kept silence too.

How many of us end up in exile?
We see ourselves as silenced. We retreat.
But look at things again. Be honest now.
What gave us cause to leave our audience?
What happened that led us to close the doors?

Perhaps I judge too harshly, blind to pain.
Perhaps the door was really shut on you.
I merely say, Come, see the the cause again.
For if a cause is festering within,
The chances are your future is as well.

Yes, exile often is a two way street,
created by ourselves and by events.
And even if rejected, it makes sense
To seek perspective on a frozen past.

Do you subject the past to a broad curse?
Consign a stack of memories to flames?
Say you never will go home again?
Or hate the world you once sought to remake?

Live high, aloof, alone, in bitterness?
Take angered solace in your solitude?
Excuse me if I disturb this high peace.
Would you allow Abba a simple word?

"I've been within you, as I always am.
And you have never, ever been ignored.
I've been within you waiting for your nod,
So we can seek a nearer, better shore.

"We can repair the bridges time has burned,
Or we can move along as we decide.
Just know your isolation is not real,
For you have had a friend from start to now."

So what takes place when such soft words are heard?
You're free to choose, to reassess your time,
To do your history over, as it were,
To start again and set your course anew.

This freedom never leaves, it is instant.
But open eyes and ears to who you are.
Stand tall in knowing you are not ignored.
Not by the eyes that count, the ears who hear.

"I am in all, I link all in a chain,
Or circle or great gathering or throng.
I wait for you to be the who you are.
Not burdened by resentment, hate or pain."

Ah, think of that when you end up alone.
For it is death we feel when we're ignored.
But, even then, in that most lonely place,
Reach out, look in, feel Abba's presence there.

For even in the most lonesome valley,
I say to you, You shall not be ignored.
You shall walk hand in hand through death's shadow.

On Small Virtues

Small virtues are not small in any way;
Small virtues can be signs of giving hearts,
Thoughtful things one does with care and grace.

To look down on small virtues can be small;
There is an origin of such put-downs.
They rise from two perspectives commonly:
The first is snobbery which look askance
At actions seen as crude or low or trite.
A sneer goes forth that says, Servility!
Or, Tacky! Or, Without taste! Or, How gauche!
(Oblivious as Abba feels the lash.)

The second view suspects hypocrisy.
A caring hand within a family
Turns into violence out in the world.

I have been known to say of all virtues:
What good is what is easy to perform?
Why love of friends and not of enemies?
To these hard questions I would also add:
Consider what the good you do achieves.
Take care to know how all the ripples flow.
Do not take pride in causing far-off grief.
Or puffed up with some showy charity.

I shall come back to this, but first this thought:
In truth, you could be free of all of this.
But only if you slough off all self-hate.
Yes, hatred of yourself, imperfect you.
Yes, hatred of yourself, the fallen you.
Yes, hatred of yourself, the failing you.

All of these hates can mix in with virtue,
Producing double-binds and conundrums.
But Abba sees this mixture in each soul.
How self-hate breeds depression and despond.
How Herculean efforts don't suffice
To pay the prices that self-hate exacts.

There is a light within. A spark of life.
It's Abba's presence and your divine seal.

Accept. Observe. Let pass, as Abba does.

+

Your best virtue is claiming none at all,
Regardless if your deeds be large or small.
You do not know the end of what you do,
Or uses others put your efforts to.

I call this your baptism of true fire.
Unseen, unheard, it happens many times.
When judging ends and and self-love is renewed.
Self-love founded in Abba's love of you.

The smaller good, the more your good achieves.
The smaller good, you see the ripples flow.
The smaller good, you cause no far-off grief,
Nor fall into false forms of charity.

A billion small goods might do more in all,
Than all the vaunted plans some leaders hatch.
The victims of large goods that turned to flame
Are muted testimony to this truth.

So sneer not at small virtues but raise hands
Against virtues that turn the world to ash.