tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46626327702340327642024-03-28T23:27:35.706-04:00Fragments Toward A WholeExplorations in Christian Faith and Life by Gregory Strong, Ph.D.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.comBlogger273125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-45121424857881491982022-05-14T05:00:00.018-04:002023-04-07T17:21:23.535-04:00Good Friday<div style="text-align: left;">Encumbered, we struggled with death,</div><div style="text-align: left;">the weight of gore ungainly, unclean,</div><div style="text-align: left;">gravity-bound, of cruciate uncrossed,</div><div style="text-align: left;">that we lowered and swaddled in cloth,</div><div style="text-align: left;">now soiled of blood and sweat; then</div><div style="text-align: left;">stumbling grief, labored and stubbed,</div><div style="text-align: left;">the way to the cave, stooped small at</div><div style="text-align: left;">the entrance, and dark, and one of us</div><div style="text-align: left;">must back in first, must carry not push,</div><div style="text-align: left;">or one last indignity we would inflict …</div>Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-31060551223948853352022-04-17T05:00:00.003-04:002022-04-18T07:58:46.824-04:00Wild Beauty Now Materializes<div style="text-align: left;">Wild beauty now materializes in wind and cloud,<br />in moon and star and planet, in the deep hour<br />before dawn, toward swell of light and high bird,<br />thus rising, striding, and besting the bleak night.</div>Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-91034154572897635612021-04-01T05:00:00.008-04:002024-03-28T16:00:01.809-04:00Maundy Thursday<div style="text-align: left;">Worlds rotate and orbit the sun regardless,</div>as chaos upswells and ungrounds the garden<div style="text-align: left;">late, that dark thinks death thus to reign,</div><div style="text-align: left;">while a blooded prayer agonizes light, life.</div><p></p>Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-82097101571573792182020-12-25T05:00:00.017-05:002021-01-05T09:50:58.042-05:00We Wonder StillMany years since, <div>we wonder still</div><div>to a rough barn,</div><div>past hills and fields</div><div>through city streets</div><div>long cold and dark,</div><div>to a small child</div><div>born for us, for</div><div>light and life, that</div><div>by this love come</div><div>down, dawn will sing!</div>Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-48952456442778749482020-08-29T05:00:00.001-04:002020-08-29T11:35:12.048-04:00Worship: Ontological; Interpersonal; AestheticThere are instructional or didactic elements in worship. For example, the recitation of a creed in Morning Prayer or in the Eucharist is partly instructional. Yet worship is not fundamentally or principally didactic in nature and purpose. Worship is ontological, interpersonal, and aesthetic. Worship expresses and shapes our being as creatures in the image of God, our relationships with God and our neighbor, and our sense of the sublime and desirable. Worship involves and informs our whole being, individual and corporate, in truth, beauty, and goodness; in faith, hope, and love. The forms and substance of worship, the rites and ceremonies, ought to reflect and enact this multi-dimensional endeavor.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-32513039726824467032020-08-08T05:00:00.003-04:002020-08-08T07:55:30.808-04:00With Sighs Too Deep for WordsSt. Paul writes in his letter to the Christians in Rome (ch. 8, v. 26; NRSV), “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.” For those who can speak aloud and clearly, there are times, there are things, when and for which we find no words. We have vague or inchoate thoughts and feelings, and we cannot express to another what moves in head and heart. We may not even be able to articulate them within our own soul. Here, the Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. Yet for those who simply and ever cannot speak aloud and clearly, how much more do articulation, expression, communication, fail them? Perhaps they do have the words in head and heart, but they cannot physically voice them. Perhaps, more profoundly, thoughts and feelings lie beyond articulation, even within head and heart. How much more for them, the Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. So we hope and pray.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-89814080812009299822020-07-28T05:00:00.001-04:002020-07-29T10:27:14.887-04:00On Hearing Certain MusicThough eye does not —<br />
at sigh of strings,<br />
their rise and fall<br />
in time and place,<br />
as life, as love —<br />
let weep the heart.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-59834980983066062672020-07-15T05:00:00.001-04:002022-04-18T07:53:28.392-04:00To Leap and to PraiseTo leap and to praise<div>those who are lame and</div><div>those who are mute</div><div>touched by Life, by Love</div><div>broken with them</div><div>given for them</div><div>those who are lame and</div><div>those who are mute</div><div>to leap and to praise</div><div>glory to God, glory to all</div><div>blessing and glory</div><div>world without end</div>Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-83286821927672497892020-07-14T05:00:00.001-04:002020-07-14T11:30:39.866-04:00Come, Lord, Lowly and PlainCome, Lord, come; lowly and plain. Dwell with those who live in the dead-ends of cities and towns; in the by-ways of valleys and hills. Be friend and kin where need is great; tender with words and hands in love, in hope. Come, Lord, now; lowly and plain.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-28415228106273486552020-07-13T05:00:00.000-04:002020-07-13T08:22:59.948-04:00For Faith, Hope, and Love to Meet Our DaysMost merciful God, creator and redeemer of all: to a world wracked with pain and loss, you came in Jesus to take our suffering into your heart, there to bear and heal it. Tender your Spirit in our hearts, that we who groan and weep, for ourselves and others, may find faith, hope, and love to meet our days. Now and in the end, wipe away our tears, our sorrows, in life made new and whole, that grief and death will be no more. Amen.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-73624933964076489842020-01-12T05:00:00.000-05:002020-01-12T08:59:52.686-05:00A Commonwealth of CareWe come into life not by self circumstance and act but by circumstance and act of others. We are not born to be dependent, yet we are born dependent. I was born dependent. The person next to me was born dependent, as was the person far from me. On whom do I depend? On whom do they depend? On each of us. On all of us. Hence, we are born to care, to care for each of us, for all of us. We come into life not facing self but facing another, needing another, to care for one another. From beginning to end, we are born to live in a commonwealth of care. And so we should.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-23753500518622045592019-12-31T05:00:00.000-05:002019-12-31T17:27:49.428-05:00Pen and LensAt the thin verge of meaning,<br />
I wander in fields and woods,<br />
near and far, known and not;<br />
a kind of faith, hope, love<br />
for truth, beauty, goodness.<br />
Though the word escapes me,<br />
and the image, my camera,<br />
I wonder long, pen and lens.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-18992186547894701962019-12-24T05:00:00.000-05:002019-12-24T12:41:46.279-05:00A Child Is Born For Us This NightAll our vulnerability embodied<br />
in so compact a time and space,<br />
a child is born for us this night —<br />
for the twisted tongue and limb,<br />
and the harrowed heart and soul,<br />
for the nameless none have marked,<br />
and the countless come to pass —<br />
born to sinew faith, hope, love<br />
from dark to light, death to life,<br />
this passion laid to earth, for us.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-55900940883952594702019-12-21T05:00:00.000-05:002019-12-21T08:45:29.788-05:00Words That Will Not SleepWith the wrinkling years<br />
it happens less and less,<br />
words that will not sleep,<br />
that clamor in the head<br />
to be written, to be said,<br />
though the dark is deaf<br />
and morning long to come;<br />
still, the heart does voice.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-47184442534541676262019-12-17T05:00:00.000-05:002019-12-17T16:00:25.124-05:00More Than a Sentimental Narrative about a BabyThe event we celebrate at Christmas is more than a sentimental narrative about a baby. It is the reorientation of human history through God's will not to power but to sacrificial love through presence in and identification with our vulnerability and suffering. "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1:14.) God's glory, grace, and truth are embodied in the Child in a stable in Bethlehem, then on a cross outside of Jerusalem. And this is the real good news we carol at Christmas and throughout the year when we live his glory, grace, and truth in our world of vulnerability and suffering.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-36701186566645085472019-11-04T05:00:00.000-05:002019-11-04T13:40:14.923-05:00Hermeneutic PrincipleThe meaning of this<br />
word modifies that,<br />
whether proximate<br />
or separate, in<br />
time or space or both;<br />
modifies, neither<br />
rules nor replaces.<br />
So hearts as for words.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-19229680893751885792019-10-27T05:00:00.000-04:002019-10-30T08:28:05.300-04:00They Are GoneThey are gone, and<br />
I think of them,<br />
long, as <i>prie-dieu</i><br />
bent to hard wood.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-29798607082368149072019-09-22T05:00:00.000-04:002019-09-23T09:51:42.281-04:00In the Sound of Sheer SilenceIn a motel room and awake before dawn, having showered and shaved, I sat in a chair in the dark for some while. The rush of the a/c unit’s fan pushed air noisily about the small room. The abrupt disturbance of a door opening and closing across the hall shook even the door to my room. Outside a fire engine blazed by with din of siren and lights. Then racket of fan and door and fire engine went quiet. Utterly. In the sound of sheer silence, God, intimately present: questioning, challenging, assuring.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-61984166135730581312019-08-22T05:00:00.000-04:002019-08-22T07:28:08.171-04:00Images of GrassesWhen I was at Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge (Dorchester County, Maryland's eastern shore of the Chesapeake Bay) earlier in the summer, I was entranced by the grasses, and by the grasses and water. Such varieties of grasses: textures; heights; colors; densities. I took several photographs. I could spend a long time observing the many grasses in their varied contexts of time and place, of light and air, of weathers and seasons. I wonder if I could produce a set of quality photographs. I would like to try. It would take extended time and effort. Yet the possibility stimulates and pulls me.<br />
<br />
And related to this, I think some artist ought to compose "A Symphony of Grasses," or at least an extended tone poem, to evoke the textures, heights, colors, densities. I would only need to learn more about music and grasses. Ah, but for another life.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-77072836154133320052019-08-02T05:00:00.000-04:002019-08-02T08:46:25.415-04:00Present Circumstances, Present SelfHow in the ambiguity of my present circumstances, not some imagined or desired ideal circumstances, can I glorify God? How in the ambiguity of my present self, not some imagined or desired ideal self, can I embody and manifest the truth, beauty, and goodness of God's kingdom? These questions have long wrestled me.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-88775060572951067682019-01-05T05:00:00.001-05:002024-01-05T11:24:00.503-05:00The Twelve Days of ChristmasAt the end of the twelfth day,<br />
it wells up. How many more?<br />
How many more Christmases<br />
to wonder and carol, to wander?<br />
<br />
To ponder keenly in this regard,<br />
we think peculiar to late years.<br />
Yet truly it shadows one and all,<br />
whether many or few remain,<br />
<br />
Christmases, that is, since his cry,<br />
for shepherds far at night in fields,<br />
for mother pierced to the morrow,<br />
for young and old alike, for me.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-52870771508255558962018-12-15T05:00:00.000-05:002019-12-22T07:20:16.777-05:00The Winter GardenThe winter garden,<br />
pared and cleared,<br />
bides in time,<br />
no mind or heart<br />
for hour or day,<br />
nor length of night,<br />
just life in still,<br />
bare-limbed,<br />
cold-clod,<br />
plant and soil;<br />
when of a sudden<br />
air to earth<br />
wings a cardinal,<br />
as if a hinge<br />
of time, of summer,<br />
memory and hope,<br />
seeded in us,<br />
<i>sursum corda</i>,<br />
while we face<br />
the coming snow.<br />
<br />Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-88940377064771567002018-06-01T05:00:00.000-04:002018-06-01T08:09:38.174-04:00The Space BetweenIn the confession in Morning Prayer, in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer, we daily admit our wrongdoing and failure: "We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent." And daily I stop short between these two sentences. Will I cross the space?Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-25276761522228892342018-05-18T05:00:00.000-04:002018-05-18T05:00:15.281-04:00A Psalm in Two QuestionsHas God in mercy<br />
spared my life<br />
these many years?<br />
Or, just to censure,<br />
mercy spared,<br />
many these years?Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4662632770234032764.post-10172494041135735312018-05-17T05:00:00.000-04:002018-05-24T13:58:42.090-04:00ImprovisationA gray catbird flutes over and under, in<br />
and out, the green ensemble of May<br />
in leaf, improvisation of sound and color,<br />
such jazzy measure, as twilight rains.Gregory Stronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03839054294144487511noreply@blogger.com0