What do you do when a misanthropic,
misogynistic, demagogic, just plain
nasty if entertaining Republican
candidate is right on 9/11, “W”
and Ted Cruz?
Cheer him on and
still hope he still does lose.

You still have not answered
the question about
O B and Joyful booze;
sounds like evangelical,
mumbooze jumbooze,
but that’s okay,
you need your beauty sleep
before your early flight
before daylight.
Oh, by the way,
just tell me what booze he wants.
I would hate to disappoint
your husband;
there is always hell to pay
when it doesn’t go the baby
in the family’s way.
What more can I say?
Have a nice flight.
Good night
and sweet dreams
or come what may.

Such an extreme difference
in temperatures from
the upper Northeast
to the lower South-
west —
seems so schizophrenic
at best —
six above
in one,
eighty-six
in the desert sun.
Low pressure
in one,
high pressure
over the sunny one.
Such extremes
seem to
ape
the political
landscape —
such extreme
disparity,
highs and lows,
lefts and rights,
whether in
weather or
political life,
a lot of big blows,
a big stormy
sight,
a super, hyper-
kinetic tragedy
or comedic delight.

Over the weekend, the spa and pool
are used by many owners, renters
and guests, especially on Sunday.

That is why I wait patiently
to dip my toes until the spa
and pool are cleaned on Monday.

Wherever I look, touch
or inhale,
she is there
sometimes seemingly
behind a
veil,
After these years,
still mysterious
but giving flight
to my fearful tears
and then cajoling
tears of joy.
A sculpture here,
a book there
and I am content
to rest in her
loving care.

They don’t see the grandkids
very often — two thousand
miles in between, but then
they are around them for
a few months at a time.
On the first visit after an
absence of about nine months,
the three-year-old and the
five-year-old kept their
distance, but by the end of
the visit, the three-year-
old climbed up on grandpa’s
lap and started rubbing
his sparsely haired head.
And everyone chimed in,
“Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear;
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair;
Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn’t very
fuzzy, was he?” In protest
Fuzzy, the bear, growled that
he still had some hair up
there as the three-year-old
and the five-year-old laughed
and the three-year-old kept
rubbing the fuzz on the
head of the bear.

After the second visit,
the three-year-old
cried uncontrollably
when grandma and
grandpa and the
chocolate lab
left. He wanted
them to stay.
As they
drove away,
grandpa said
through the open
window,
“We will return
another day
to play.”

Our dog doesn’t Skype
or do Facebook or tweet

although when he sleeps
his muscles are often

a-twitter with his dreams.
He doesn’t blog; he

just looks us in the eye
and tells us with that

look how much he loves
us and how much he

would like a bite or
two or even more

of the sandwiches we
hold in our hands.

As we approached the house
wonderful smells wafted
toward us. The dog, of course,
got excited first, his nostrils
twittering. He had prepared
lunch, a feast actually,
gourmet — pork tenderloin
stuffed with Italian sausage
and spices, baked in the
oven and seared on the grill,
seafood salad from scratch,
broccoli al dente. What’s the
propane torch for? Crème Brule.
Half-way through the moist and
tender tenderloin, he started
talking about early life ex-
periences, an absent mother,
meddling, judgmental relatives,
reasons, explanations, a way of
making sense out of mistakes,
wrong turns, regrettable
actions. He sought expiation
more than explanations and
that was the desert he was
offered as we cracked the crust
of his Brule.

Years ago, I dropped the notion of blood sacrifice/substitutionary atonement (never liked it to begin with) as incompatible with God as the origin and source of complete love and adopted the notion that God’s complete love necessarily allows for freedom in the creation to choose the way of un-love, and that choosing becomes the norm in less than complete love.

This, of course, assumes a volitional act on the part of creation. What about violence as simply a part of the evolutionary process? What about the fight or flight of the animal world? What about survival of the fittest?

Could it be that all of this is natural in the evolutionary process and did not become an existential/ethical problem until the dawn of human consciousness — that which is okay in creation becomes “sin” with “ evil” consequences in humanity because humanity is called to different behavior but chooses the same behavior, which can no longer be considered innocent or the norm but an aberration or violation of God’s will?

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin believed that “evil and suffering existed in the world long before human beings came around.” My question is would any of it be considered “evil” before humanity labeled it as such? Perhaps it was just natural?

Human reflection on the meaning of life necessitates pondering the juxtaposition of complete love with all that might be considered “evil.” Ironically, it could be concluded that complete love always allows for the freedom to not love, so that in a certain sense, it could be said that inherent within complete love is the ever present possibility of evil, which may not have been considered as such until humanity reflected on it.

(As an aside, I also like the notion in process theology and to some extent in the thought of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin that evil is the flotsam and jetsam that results in the evolutionary process of complexification and concrescence. As things come together, some things are necessarily cast off.)

God’s response is to love the creation out of the volitional behavior which always ends in violent death by submitting to the worst of that behavior — utter and total un-love in violent death and rising in the power of complete love thus revealing the extent of God’s love for us and the power of that love over that to which we inevitably resort (think gun violence, state sanctioned violence, sacred violence, domestic violence, child abuse, animal abuse, etc.). I’m not speaking of “natural violence” such as destruction from volcanoes erupting, hurricanes, etc. I’m speaking of the volitional violence committed by humans.

When I think of Christ on the Cross, I do not think of God self-punishing with the outcome being not of my gratitude but rather my increased guilt (think Roman Catholic and Christian Reformed and RCA) for being such a loathsome creature. This is where I have trouble with the Heidelberg Catechism. It starts at the wrong place. Instead of starting with GUILT, it should be Grace, Guilt, Grace, Gratitude or something like that. Getting one’s ducks in a row would mean placing original blessing before sin.

I think of God participating in my suffering and grief out of sheer, perfect love for me and for the entire creation.

God suffers with and for the creation revealing that that suffering and its attendant, resultant, inevitable resort to violence is not the last word, the last word being love.

In the Cosmic Christ, the mythologized Jesus first conceived by St. Paul in Colossians where Paul moves from the individual person Jesus (whom, by the way, he hardly ever mentions) to the universal salvific metaphor for God’s complete love — the Christ, the entire creation is destined for life not death.

God’s love shows us how completely lovable we are and how we then can participate in God’s “saving” by casting off the Via Violentia for Via Amoris.

Bob

“Do not put your trust in princes, in mortals, in whom there is no help.
When their breath departs, they return to the earth; on that very day
their plans perish.” — Psalm 146: 3-4

The political news
and nothing’s new.

Deeply he breathed —
his spirit freed

from contagious fear.
The Spirit is near.

Deeply he breathed —
his spirit freed

for love’s compassion
directing his action

from orthodoxy
to orthopraxy.

The political views —
such depressing news.

Deeply he breathes,
calming the inner seas.