Category Archives: poetry

Morning Thoughts: Beyond

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by Howard Hain

 

F. Hain Untitled ~2014

F. Hain, “Untitled”, ~2014

 

Beyond “Yes”

Beyond “Amen”

Beyond “I love You”

You are beyond

Beyond prayer

Beyond is my prayer

It looks a lot like sitting still

Like not thinking

Not remembering

Not planning

Not wanting

It looks a lot like pure existence

A lot like being free

Infinitely free

 

You, Lord, are the Lord of Freedom, if only we’d accept Your declaration—if only we’d love the person we most imprison with jealousy and petty dislikes.

Free us Lord from ourselves, from our most secret possession, from our deeply hidden pride.

Grant us, Lord of Infinite Freedom, the grace to fly upward, and inward, all toward You.

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Friday Thoughts: Can’t Be Afraid

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by Howard Hain

 

No matter what it is. All good options are on the table. All goodness is on the table. For God sets a banquet before us, a great breakfast. Liberty first. We must be free. Drink deep of letting go of the past, repentance is not an aftertaste. Repentance sets the table. A table held in place by belief. Upon which God’s goodness gives life. It is always about life. More of it. More letting go, less picking up the scraps. Of course, if scraps are all we have, by all means let us be grateful. But I have a sneaky suspicion there’s a whole lot more—if only we’d tell “fear” to take a hike—and then take our proper place at the table.

So much goodness is in store.

 

 

 

Friday Thoughts: The Laugh’s On Us

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by Howard Hain

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No matter what I’m going through I feel the urge to laugh when I speak to a brother in Christ—and now I know why—true fellowship reminds us that God laughs at our trifling fears.

 

Rembrandt Self Portrait

Rembrandt, “Self-Portrait”, (1668)

 

Morning Thoughts: The Substance Of Prayer

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by Howard Hain

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How do we know if our prayer is answered?

When we no longer remember what we requested. When we discoverer inexplicable peace and experience inexplicable joy—even though we ride a hot, crowded, slow-moving subway car and have no idea if the specific circumstances surrounding our lives have changed in the least.

We know God is real, His will is perfect, and He never abandons us. We know we don’t need to understand. We know that somehow the peace and joy within us are actually related to our lack of understanding. We trust. We believe. We know “faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” *

We know we’ve been blessed.

We know our faith has increased.

We know God has answered our prayer.

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* Hebrews 11:1

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Friday Thoughts: The Height Of Stars

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by Howard Hain

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My constant companion.

My acting partner, my motivational coach.

Sometimes I forget you’re there.

Such lack of gratitude, such empty graciousness.

But you remind me, lest I forget.

There you are once again.

Right beside me.

Center stage.

All the world to see.

Hard to imagine you any other way.

My constant companion.

My antagonist. My adversary.

Middle of the night, just you and me.

Another standoff. Another scene.

Good or bad, there’s always drama.

One day we’ll part ways I suppose.

But for today, this hour, you continue to goad.

Pestering and probing.

A reaction, any, is what you want.

Like a needle in my hay stack

Pricking my limbs.

Especially my heart.

Weakness.

That’s who you are.

You play your role.

Upstaging the stronger, more noble parts of man.

Clever, cunning, looking for the upper hand.

Curtain up or curtain down.

You’re a character for sure.

Smile or frown.

Jester or clown.

Your disguise is basically the same.

Some sort of wise man, a plot all your own.

But you, Sir Weakness, you are important.

Like tragedy.

Like divine comedy.

You give good measure.

You give the chorus something to say.

And despite your best intentions.

You help establish strength.

You remind people the height of stars.

Without you, my dear Weakness, no hero could ever be.

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Morning Thoughts: Up and Away

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by Howard Hain

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“In the same way, everyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”

—Luke 14:33

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Butterflies fly.

They sail beautifully and somewhat clumsily at the same time.

It’s as if even their own weight is almost too much to carry.

Hard to imagine them bringing anything else along for the ride.

Paper-thin wings—watercolored and air-dried—the rain keeps them tucked away, hidden, out of sight.

Even little drops of morning dew keep them from flight.

But the hour will come.

Just wait and see.

Still. Quiet. Like an upright leaf.

They position their wings just right.

The sun to burn away all unwanted drops.

———

Have you dew-covered wings?

Does the dew of life weigh you down?

Do you want what’s unwanted to be burned away?

Have you tried pointing your wings toward the sun?

Or do you really not want to float above?

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“You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free.”

—Galatians 5:13

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Why Read the Old Testament?

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Some people complain about the selections from the Old Testament we’re reading at weekday Mass these past few weeks. Too long, they say, they don’t tell us anything. They’d rather hear what Jesus is saying and doing.

Why do we read from the Old Testament? Reading from the Old Testament is a lot like reading from the New York Times or the Daily News, or following David Muir on ABC each evening. You’re not going to hear much about Jesus there either. The media gives us the news of the day as it happens and, especially these days, it’s not encouraging.

Not much encouraging news in our Old Testament reading today from the Book of Numbers either. (Numbers 13-14) Giants are out there blocking the way to the promised land. Israel’s scouts face giants as they reconnoiter the world ahead. There’s no way ahead.

Our media tells us the same: giants are blocking our way– North Korea, the Middle East, storms from climate change, political giants who seem to get in the way of a world of justice and peace. And we don’t have answers what to do.

But the Old Testament tells us more than the media. It’s salvation history. More than the story of the Jews, the Old Testament is the story of the human race and all creation on a journey, from the beginning of time to its end. Human sinfulness, tragedies and delays are there, but the story begins and ends in hope. God is there.

That makes the Old Testament stories so different from the stories the media serves up everyday. God is there from the beginning. That’s the way our selection today from the Book of Numbers begins: “The LORD said to Moses [in the desert of Paran,]‘Send men to reconnoiter the land of Canaan,
which I am giving the children of Israel.’” And God is there as his people experience the consequences of their foolishness and lack of faith.

The columnist David Brooks in the Times yesterday said he has to think less about Donald Trump or he’s going to go crazy. He needs to think more about the deeper shifts taking place in society, he says.

I wonder if thinking about the deeper shifts is enough to stop you from going crazy these days. We need hope from another source. That’s where the Old Testament and the rest of the scriptures comes in. Some prefer calling it the “First Testament.” It testifies that the first thing to keep in mind about time is that God is there, from beginning to the end. God is our Savior.

Friday Thoughts: Just The Facts

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by Howard Hain

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All human beings are creations of God.

God loves all His creation.

He wills the best for each and every part of it.

His will is the best.

You are one of His creations.

So is the person you hate.

So is the person you dislike tremendously.

So is the person who annoys you to death.

God loves us all.

God offers us forgiveness for being so unkind to His other creations.

He loves us so much He gives us the freedom to choose the wrong path.

He loves us so much He sent His Only Begotten Son to show us the right way.

Jesus loves us so much He sent the Holy Spirit to strengthen and accompany us.

God smiles.

All three persons smile.

They are One God.

God’s love is all powerful and infinitely kind.

God’s gift of freedom is a gift He intends for us to use.

God desires for us to choose to become like Him.

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Morning Thoughts: Over Easy

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by Howard Hain

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A run-of-the-mill bakery.

A hand truck full of eggs.

A handful of women from Latin America.

Neither load is fragile.

A woman’s strength may appear as a delicate shell, and if poorly handled she too may break.

But strength is not a matter of not breaking.

It’s a matter of showing up, chipped, broken, sometimes even shattered.

It’s a matter of overcoming.

Of producing.

Of providing.

Of letting go.

One buttered roll at a time.

Preparing the day “café con leche” by “café con leche”.

The eggs slowly disappear.

The ladies change names.

Mary, the Mother of God, remains.

———

“Holy Mother, pierce me through, in my heart each wound renew, of my Savior crucified.”

———

It’s a matter of believing. Of dreaming. Of seeing what can’t be seen. Of loving who can’t be loved.

It’s a matter of hope that never ends, of hope that sustains the very faith from which it came.

It’s a matter of saying “yes” to each and every hour—for someone must be present to serve God’s promise of daily bread.

———

She who stands closest to the foot of the cross most resembles the man being crucified. She must embody Compassion, she still hears His breath, expanding and contracting deep within. Suffering is not be feared. Being without the source of all consolation and peace is just too terrifying.

The “fear of the Lord” keeps us within the grasp of Jesus’ hand.

It “is the beginning of wisdom.” Mary is there to begin. She remains till the end.

Wisdom begets Wisdom.

And she most often looks like a little unpresuming lady working behind a busy breakfast counter.

She is a lady nonetheless.

She is the mother of all I hope for.

———

“Pray for us, O holy Mother of God; that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.”

———

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Friday Thoughts: Uneasy Mercy

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by Howard Hain

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Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted…

—Luke 2:34

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When we are truly merciful, or at least sincerely try to be merciful—to see others and their deeds through the eyes of the Ever-Loving Eternal Father—there often is an unholy fear that takes place. This fear is not the fear of God. This fear is not from God.

No, the fear of God—the good and righteous “fear of the Lord”—a gift of the Holy Spirit—is not the fear to which I am referring. Let us make that perfectly clear. Absolutely not. That fear—the good and righteous “fear of the Lord”—is a great grace and is actually what prompts us to be merciful toward others in the first place.

The fear that I am referencing is superficial, like all fear other than the only fear we should ever have, “the fear of the Lord.” Whether this superficial fear comes from the world, from our own weak flesh, or from Satan, is not very important. For what we need to know and always remember is that this superficial fear is not of or from God.

It is the fear of being accused. Accused of condoning. For when we see others with true mercy we no longer merely look at their acts, no matter how sinful they may be. No, we see first and foremost a person. More so, we see a child. A child who is frightened. A child who is running a high fever. And no one with any heart at all, even if it be a calloused and somewhat hardened heart, wants to punish a frightened or feverish child.

No, no matter our maternal or paternal instinct, or lack thereof, the truly human instinct is to hug. To help. To hold. To heal. To alleviate the fear and burning pain.

But without God’s grace we too often, almost always in terms of statistical significance, do not see a child.

We only see a person who has harmed our world, our society, our way of life, our order, our peace.

We only see a person who—no matter how indirectly his or her actions might affect us—has harmed us and our families personally, and we along with the rest of the mob want justice.

A conflict takes place.

God’s perspective versus the world’s. A frightened and sick child versus a criminal who must be punished. Mercy versus justice.

But the conflict isn’t real. God not only loves justice too, God is Justice. And he sent His Only Begotten Son as expiation for the great injustice of mankind. Our kind. Our sin.

For God to only see the need for punishment is for God to deny His Only Begotten Son. That is not going to happen.

So the next time you feel the desire to be merciful—the need to be merciful—even toward the most “obvious” and “blatant” sinner do not give into the temptation. The temptation to fear. The fear that you are in some way condoning the sinful action because you are refusing to demand immediate and absolute punishment, a punishment that “fits the crime.”

No, say the Lord’s Prayer.

You are on God’s side. God is being merciful through you. And no matter how intimidated you may feel, be “firm and steadfast” in God’s love and mercy.

For you too love justice. You too love Jesus. And Jesus is Justice.

Jesus is Living and Breathing Justice.

And it is through this very person, The Person of Jesus, that “mercy and truth have met each other: justice and peace have kissed.” (Psalm 85:11)

Praise be to God.

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