Respecting the awesome power of words!

peace

Call of the Song

zcall of the song

 

A song we all know well
  called and left a message:
    I’m music, written from
      a particular place and time,
    intended to stir human souls
  to passion and magnanimity,
through both my tune and lyrics.

When I begin to fail at that task,
  as the cracks and limitations of my era’s
    sociocultural ignorance magnify,
      don’t set off smokescreens,
    dig your heels in blindly,
  or deify me, for fear of loss/change.

Instead, listen to one another’s
  story and experiences,
    together, creating a present and future
      out of which more hopeful tunes
    and lyrics can be
  given birth and live.

Remember, I’m here to serve
  at your collective pleasure,
    not to have you serve at mine.

© 2017 Todd Jenkins
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DBV

zDBV

 

      Death by violence;
    it is the trademark
  of a culture predicated
on consumption as arrival
  and competition for survival.

      The socioeconomic sausage grinder
    uses people like inanimate ingredients
  in a secret family recipe,
where nothing matters
  but the finished product,
    and the only ones not
      on the menu are those
    who’ve schemed or entitled
  their way to a table for one.

      When you hear the engine groan
    for lack of fodder, and
  squeal for lack of lubricant,
be sure to check the list
  of ingredients needed
    to satisfy the beast.

      No matter the euphemism
    behind which it's cloaked,
  if what's really called for
are the bones and blood
  of human lives,
    maybe it's time to build
      a more just machine;

      time to confess
    that stockpiled weaponry,
  war’s machinery,
tilted and justified incarceration,
  and border-based enslavement
    aren’t really meant
      to keep us safe or
    help the weak defend
  and provide for themselves,
but to keep power mongers on top. 

      Maybe it’s time to take
    this kind of sausage
  off the menu, and
search our collective souls
  for more sustainable fare.

            © 2017 Todd Jenkins

Eternity

zeternity-ashley goadPhoto by Ashley Goad

 

The church marquee read,
"We will all have eternal life.
Where will you choose
to spend yours?"

as if either eternity itself,
or the choice we make
regarding it, or both, are located
somewhere in the (distant?) future.

Eternity is not just
a future proposition.

By definition, it extends
in both directions across
the time continuum for infinity,
beginning long before any
of us breathed our first,
and continuing long after any
of us breathe our last. 

The more relevant question, then,
is not how WILL we spend eternity,
but how ARE we already spending
the part of it during which
we have life and breath?

We can accept judgmentalism and fear,
or we can choose grace and hope.

One choice feels like hell’s death
already sucking the life out of us;
the other, like paradise
being born, day by day. 

© 2017 Todd Jenkins

 


Empty and Broken

zempty&broken

In a culture hell-bent on grasping,
patching, and covering up,
faith's call to empty ourselves
and embrace our brokenness
is arduous; but

as long as we are full –
of ourselves or our privilege
or anything else – and as long
as we pretend that we are flawless,
there is neither room nor path
for divine grace's infusion to us
and effusion from us.

Psalm 46:10's beginning statement
is often translated,
"Be still, and know
that I am God."
Its first Hebrew word, רָפָה (rapha)
can also be translated
"relax" or "let go".

Let go – empty yourself
of all you're trying to make
of yourself –  and know
that I am God.

We are never closer
to holy ground than when
we are standing
on common ground.

Being fully human is the result
of recognizing sparks
of both the self and the divine
in others, especially in those
we've been taught
to despise and devalue.

This may be the only
vantage point from which
we can truly ditch
all fear of scarcity,
all inflated pretense
of competitively-induced
self-worthiness and earning,

finally and fully relinquishing us all
to God's abundant mercy and grace.

© 2017 Todd Jenkins

 


Table Talk

ztable talk

Those who prey upon our angst,
peddling patriotism and nationalism
beneath a thick veneer of anxiety,
glossed-over with a heavy coat
of exceptionalism, do not want us
to pray in the name of the Nazareth one;

at least not to pray
with the honesty and
depth he did.

They do not want us to read
the gospels with open eyes;

at least not to read
them with hearts peeled wide,
so that the ones he welcomed,
the ones he celebrated,
the ones he dined with,
the ones he fed, healed,
and lifted up will be given
a seat at the table.

Fear, and his cousin, Scarcity,
have constructed a tiny world
whose table has a limited,
manageable number of chairs.

These two cannot imagine
the magnanimity
of Abundance's story.

Their notion of Grace
is tightly throttled,
so it applies only
to a chosen few who
deserve and/or have earned it;
which, if you consider the meaning,
has nothing to do with Grace at all.

We must not be deceived,
however, into patting ourselves
on the back for recognizing
her face in a few other places,
for that is but another form
of competition and comparison.

She shows up every day,
not so much incognito,
as just plain unrecognized,
because we all have scars
on the retina of our narratives
blinding us to her presence.

When we pour our hopes and
dreams into the same story,
we will begin, together,
to help one another
more clearly see out of
and into our shadowed lives.

© 2017 Todd Jenkins

 


Gospel

zgospel

We live and breathe, O God,
in a world increasingly beholden,
not to the gospels of Matthew,
Mark, Luke, and John,
but rather to the gospels of division,
fear, hatred, and violence.

Remind us today, and each day
of our earthly sojourn,
that you did not create us
for such divisive, loveless,
hopeless, and destructive purposes.

Give us courage to speak
your truth to privilege and power –
the privilege and power
we've been granted,
the privilege and power
at the top of the constitutional
and governmental food chain,
and all privilege and power in-between.

Give us compassion to feel
the anxiety and hurt rising up
from those who regularly find themselves
at the short end of the stick
and the end of the line,
with targets on their backs,
because of the practice of their faith,
the color of their skin,
the nation of their birth, or
the configuration of their chromosomes.

Give us wisdom to recognize
the greed and indifference
that turn a blind eye
for profit's sake.

Give us integrity to live into
our created purpose,
so we may speak justice,
walk humility, and breathe hope.

As followers of the resurrected one,
we are called to be his voice,
his hands, his feet.

Show us how to live and love,
so we and our broken world
can find ourselves
pieced together by and
mortared with grace.

So let it be spoken,
so let it be lived,
so let it be done.

© 2017 Todd Jenkins

Holy Warriors

lee l mckinney 06Photo by Lee Lindsey McKinney

Humans of one religion
killing humans of another,
solely because of their faith,
is nothing less than absurd.

Does it happen?
Not nearly as much
as the media would
have us believe.

Not that killing is fabricated;
but that religion, as a driving force
for death, is a red herring. 

To be sure, there are people
all over the world, every day,
who kill one another;
but faith’s practice is rarely,
if ever, the culprit.

In fact, it is the confusion and blurring
of politics, ideology, and economics
with religion that becomes a flimsy excuse
for disregarding human life;

primarily, it is the attempt to sanctify
any other egotistical, violent, social construct
by overlaying the framework of religion.

Holy warriors, be they Christian,
Jewish, Muslim, or other
(and there are plenty to go around),
are RINO: Religious In Name Only.

They have stolen their parents’ car
and run off on a killing spree,
but a religious bumper sticker
does not justify their malice.

People who tell you differently
bang the drum of fear and ignorance,
hoping you’ll fall into lock-step,
as the troops parade before lesser gods.

© 2017 Todd Jenkins

All We Can Do

llmckinney

Photo by Lee Lindsey McKinney

When the time
for doing ends,
both daily and
at the end-end,

all we can do
is slow down;

slow down and
gaze into the night sky;

gaze into the night sky
and listen to the sound
of silence;

listen to the sound
of silence and wonder;

wonder and hope;
hope and pray;

pray and let go.

© 2017 Todd Jenkins

Anger River

fullsizerender-71

Old Stone Fort (Manchester, TN)

Anger River is sourced
from three primary tributaries:
plans gone awry,
predictability thrown out the window,
and control dismantled.

It doesn't matter whether
these creeks flow
through the mirror or
the magnifying glass,
the outcome is the same:

a raging torrent sweeping away
all hope of mercy, forgiveness,
and especially, love.

Sometimes, you just need
to struggle to the shore,
sit in the sun until
your clothes are dry,
and choose to wade
into another creek.

© 2017 Todd Jenkins

Crashed Server

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In the days to come,
all of the certitude and judgment
stacked helter-skelter against
those whose experience
and perception differ from our own

will come crashing down,
not on those who've been
relegated beyond the wall,

but imploding upon
the stone stackers themselves.
Why, you ask?

Because the only mortar used
in this fearful construction
comes from the fetid cesspool
of our own confirmation bias. 

All who emerge from the rubble,
and are courageous enough
to remain present,
will be invited to sit
'round the campfire, listening
to stories never heard.

Thus, the birth pangs of peace
will once again twinge.

© 2016 Todd Jenkins