Torrent of G-d

Heart shaped splash

O’ Faith,
Glistening in liquidity,
Iridescent mists covering the soul,
To flooding generations of hearts,
Moving compassion in fits and starts,
Legacies of broken rainbows,
Coloring forgotten moments,
Patiently watched by He who sows.
O’ Faith,
Gratitude knows no concessions,
To a heart that overflows,
No, I will not hold you Faith,
Rather watch you pass through,
Grace erodes a wider channel,
Indescribable joy ensues,
Feet dance to a higher will,
Hands quickened with compassion,
Brimming from holes love only fills.
O Faith,
Where would I be without you?

By Chris Clody
6/26/2017

When The Bee Stings

PortraitsOfTheWorld_suffering_by_delirium77

יְהֹוָה

When the bee stings,
a child’s tear erupts
A mother kisses away the pain
When the son disrespects;
his father disciplines,
Trust flowers anew,
Forgiveness blooms in request.
When Torah is celebrated;
His commands galvanize the beating heart
His Laws of Love infuses every jot and title,
Yeshiva lifts eyes to Sinai,
Love of יְהֹוָה and neighbor becomes a Temple.
When Profound Love finds favor;
A handmaid sings,
The Song of Hannah echoes once again,
A virgin is overshadowed,
Magnified is the soul of Theotokos.
When a Son is given;
A Way is infleshed,
A Truth awakens dim eyes,
A Life is revealed,
Magi honor a newborn King,
Psalm 19 finds its voice.
When the Olive is pressed;
Bled is Another’s will,
Stripes give healing,
A thorny crown pricks a King,
Via Doloroso is carved by His cross,
When the Son of God is crushed,
Blood and water baptize the earth,
The choir moans in silent expectation,
Obedience gives up His Ghost.
The Father’s tear anoints a gate through Heaven.
When faith, hope, and charity are sowed,
Crosses are hoisted and yoked to the downtrodden,
A disciple craves love of God and neighbor
The poor are fed,
The naked clothed,
The slave is set free,
The forgotten are welcomed,
Warmth and hope visit the sick and imprisoned,
The church gathers in song and praise.
Happy are the many
When unity is challenged, it offers strength
When friendship is betrayed, forgiveness is availed
When hope is pressured, patience abounds,
When faith is oppressed, fear evaporates,
When charity becomes human, creation finally evolves.

By Chris Clody,
5/26/17

 

Listen Up…

eyes-of-god

Listen To My Son

Listen to My Son,
In Him I Am well pleased,
He is My Word made flesh,
Whose whisper calms the sea,
Whose name when mentioned heals,
and from which Satan flees.
My glory shines within his eyes,
Casting angels to their knees.
He is The Resurrection,
A Saving Prince of Peace,
He is your Good Shepherd,
Sacrificed for his sheep,
He is The Bread of God,
You must eat to increase,
He is Aleph v’Tav,
Who makes the unborn leap,
Your Prophet, Priest, and King,
For whom all sinners weep.
The firstborn of the dead,
Returning as a thief,
Be watchful and listen,
And pray before you sleep.

Listen to My Son,
In Him I AM well pleased.

By Chris Clody
4/1/17

One Day In His Court

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Within the everglow of God,
When humility begs consent,
Where the soul barely sees,
How mercy bears our grievous offense,
Forgiveness, not violence, only makes our choices free.

Vanity tethers away all charity,
Corrupting once pure hearts,
Contently Numb to Poverty’s mourn,
Selfishly sculpting themselves as art,
Leaving faith, hope, and love cold and stillborn.

Nevertheless, God waits,
Patiently, dry day after day,
Vigils for the vast unknowing,
Beckoning that love find its way,
Choking ordained springs from overflowing.

Soon the thrashing floor will clear,
Mighty is the Lord’s winnowing fork,
Chaff engulfed by wrath’s unquenchable fire,
As Judgment holds its only court,
Illumined by the glow that love required.

By Chris Clody
2/19/17

Another Deafening Silent Night.

 

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Another Silent Night

Silent night…after silent night,
This faith I thought I knew,
Where Sundays boast of saints and martyrs,
Now mouths seal shut and hearts turns blue.

When did fear creep in,
Where are the lionhearted,
When will the little children ask again,
Why are martyrs highly-regarded?

If “Nothing is hidden from God,
And everything is naked before his eyes
When neighbors turn on neighbors,
WHO hears the icy predator’s laugh and despair of victims’ cries?

When calumny precipitates political seasons,
The church slumbers through forgetful nights,
Awakens anemic, afraid, and silent –
Unequipped, unwilling, and running from the fight.

God hears His Bride calling,
He weeps at her neglect,
Calming her to be patient awhile longer,
Assuring her one day; all will genuflect.

When will man return to Caeser,
What he covets and has stolen,
And give to God what he gratefully owes –
When will these Silent Nights be broken?

By Chris Clody
12/21/2016

Faith: Beyond The Ovarian Lottery

Recently, I read an interesting post regarding the geographical implications of the faith one may practice. Altering Warren Buffet’s comment that it’s an ovarian lottery and simple geography and not the some Divine, constant truth that determines one’s faith. First I am always wary not to agree with Warren Buffet. I love the concept of a lottery and must admit it is inarguably true. We are very much a product of our geography and the traditions and legacies passed down. However…Warren is not simply betting against the bank, but the mysterious origin of love. True love, that extends eternally outside the pale of sexual or affectionate desires, is all-consuming. A love that has no bounds or borders is undefined by limits of The Giver. Yes, we are all born into many different and unique situations, in fact, I was considered a ‘cradle Catholic’. Yet, faith is simply a dormant label until a precious epiphany is reached. It is in this moment that Warren Buffet is treading in very deep water with only a horizon in his panic-stricken sight. But for Warren…that is still a good thing. Despite the location of his now exhaustive effort to stay afloat, he, the great Warren Buffet, realizes he too is small. Humility helps those awaken to the vastness of love the attentive Giver holds and has already surrounding each and every small and desperate soul. There are no nouns that really dignify the mysterious Creator. Nouns define the boundaries of our reason. Still, humankind is not so limited to accept that which cannot be explained. Therefore, we must agree that even the word ‘love’ cannot be as fully understood as it can be by the heart.
We all know that feeling when we give fully of ourselves to lift another up. We find an unusual joy when we walk alongside another during their long and difficult journey. We also know that love is not overwhelmed by fear. It is in that moment when the veil hiding the elusive Uncreated within and surrounding us seems a bit thinner. This is our path to freedom outside the lottery: Love.
Take time to be still and consider the vastness of Mercy that patiently awaits our choice to open our hearts to receive this very gift.

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Breathless…

Breathless at the precipice of awe,
My courage dares to wonder,
Reason stammers then withdraws
Like a child escaping thunder,
But my heart simply surrenders.

The Uncreated vibration
That makes electrons dance,
An impossible orchestration,
Laughing in the face of chance,
Revealing instead an offered romance.

Known only in moments yet undefined,
Transforming hearts to yearn,
A gift of love for all humankind,
A chance to repent and discern,
Guided, Comforted, and convicted in our return,
To follow the Son without fear of sunburn.

A cross to pick up and then embrace,
Confessed sins whispered yet soon erased,
Gazing at the One who stood in our place,
Unworthy am I to tie His shoelace,
My moment to know is a glimpse through grace,
Aching to see my King face to face,
I stand breathless, watching, and ever awake.

By Chris Clody
10/7/2016

My All

I could complain and empty my anguish regarding war and its consequence of the unnecessary sufferings of poverty and sickness. My rage towards humanity’s grabs for power and pleasure instead of honest, loving, vibrant communities. Thankfully, my faith rudders my contemplation away from this imploding darkness towards the hopeful glow of finding some way to love my God through my neighbor. Yet before I can prayerfully think towards mercy, I am drawn to first hallow The Ineffable Name* of Mercy itself.

silent thought

YOU Are

YOU are my endless epiphany,
My eternal morning glory,
Breathtaking yet life-giving,
My soul’s majestic sunrise,
One man’s hope for brotherhood.

YOU’re wild and uncontainable,
My swirl of curiosity,
Man’s DNA for mercy.
My horizon of glory,
And newfound purpose to love.

YOU are my wonderland of tomorrow’s hope,
For eye has not seen,
nor ear has heard,
nor heart imagined,
all YOU have prepared,
for those who love YOU. (1 Cor 2:9)

By Chris Clody
8/21/16

*Inspired by Abraham Joshua Heschel and his poetry in The Ineffable Name of God: Man: Poems. 2004. ISBN 0-8264-1632-2