Words from the World

WEEK 5

Monday

Thanksgiving

“Praise the Rain” by Joy Harjo

Praise the rain; the seagull dive
The curl of plant, the raven talk—
Praise the hurt, the house slack
The stand of trees, the dignity—
Praise the dark, the moon cradle
The sky fall, the bear sleep—
Praise the mist, the warrior name
The earth eclipse, the fired leap—
Praise the backwards, upward sky
The baby cry, the spirit food—
Praise canoe, the fish rush
The hole for frog, the upside-down—
Praise the day, the cloud cup
The mind flat, forget it all—

Praise crazy. Praise sad.
Praise the path on which we’re led.
Praise the roads on earth and water.
Praise the eater and the eaten.
Praise beginnings; praise the end.
Praise the song and praise the singer.

Praise the rain; it brings more rain.
Praise the rain; it brings more rain.

Joy Harjo is a poet from the Muskogee/Creek nation. She is the first Native American to serve as Poet Laureate of the U.S. “Praise the Rain,” copyright © 2015 by Joy Harjo. Source: Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings (W W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2015). Read poem here.

Tuesday

Confession

Native Alaskan healer named North America’s first female saint in Orthodox Church
A Native Alaskan midwife known for her healing love, especially toward abused women, was glorified at a meeting of bishops in Chicago this week.

Religion News Service. November 10, 2023. By Meagan Saliashvili

A Native Alaskan midwife known for her healing love, especially toward abused women, has become the first female Orthodox Christian saint from North America after she was glorified at a meeting of bishops of the Orthodox Church in America in [November].

Expected for more than a year, her glorification is the result of a bottom-up process that begins with lay members’ veneration and the gathering of accounts of holiness by a church committee. Unlike Catholicism, the Orthodox do not require miracles to confirm a saint, but some women have credited Olga with miraculous intercessions.

…

Olga is remembered for spiritually healing abused women, inviting them into the intimate space of a traditional wooden Yupik sauna, where neither bruises nor emotions could hide, and conversation flowed freely.

Olga will officially become the 14th North American Orthodox Christian saint, and the only woman in that group. …

The Rev. Vasily Fisher, parish priest of St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in Kwethluk, Alaska, where St. Olga lived, said her glorification means “a great deal” to the Yupik community there.

“People are suffering from substance abuse, families are in need,” Fisher said. “Her preparation towards glorification in the church gives hope to a path of … renewed dignity as a Native people. … That love, that … comes from God, is reflected by these local saints who reach out to those who hunger and thirst to see Christ.” …

In the remote region around Kodiak, Alaska, Native Alaskans have never stopped venerating her.

Wednesday

Petition

We Are Not Powerless
by Steve Garnaas-Holmes

When evil falls like a hailstorm and cruelty pounds living beings into the Earth,

when the cloud of ash descends with its broad wings and thoughtless talons, and we seem so small and feel so helpless, we are not.

We are remnants of the light of creation, little heavens in whom the mighty grace of God throbs like nuclear power. Frail and faulted as we are, we are vessels of the Spirit of Life, stewards of the peace of God. In our hope burns a greater power. Our good will joins an energy field that moves mountains.

We cannot gauge the quantum of hope that shimmers, unseeable, in our hope.
We trust, and our hope defeats the powers that would have us despair. Radiant with love, even before the dawn, the victory is ours.

Thursday

Intercession

Experiencing Our Own Deserts
Orthodox author John Chryssavgis considers the desert as a symbol of both “deserted-ness” and God’s presence.

One does not have to move to the geographical location of the wilderness in order to find God. Yet, if you do not have to go to the desert, you do have to go through the desert…. The desert is a necessary stage on the spiritual journey. To avoid it would be harmful. To dress it up or conceal it may be tempting; but it also proves destructive in the spiritual path.

Ironically, you do not have to find the desert in your life; it normally catches up with you. Everyone does go through the desert…. It may be in the form of some suffering, or emptiness, or breakdown, or breakup, or divorce, or any kind of trauma that occurs in our life. Dressing this desert up through our addictions or attachments—to material goods, or money, or food, or drink, or success, or obsessions, or anything else we may care to turn toward or may find available to depend upon—will delay the utter loneliness and the inner fearfulness of the desert experience. If we go through this experience involuntarily, then it can be both overwhelming and crushing. If, however, we accept to undergo this experience voluntarily, then it can prove both constructive and liberating.

John Chryssavgis, In the Heart of the Desert: The Spirituality of the Desert Fathers and Mothers. (Bloomington, IN: World Wisdom, 2008).

Friday

Contemplation

“August Third” by May Sarton (1912-1995)

These days
Lifting myself up
Like a heavy weight,
Old camel getting to her knees,
I think of my mother
And the inexhaustible flame
That kept her alive
Until she died.

She knew all about fatigue
And how one pushes it aside
For staking up the lilies
Early in the morning,
The way one pushes it aside
For a friend in need,
For a hungry cat.

Mother, be with me.
Today on your birthday
I am older than you were
When you died
Thirty-five years ago.
Thinking of you
The old camel gets to her knees,
Stands up,
Moves forward slowly
Into the new day.

If you taught me one thing
It was never to fail life.

Saturday

Adoration

“God Is Bread” by Sister Thea Bowman.
Thea Bowman (1937–1990) was a Franciscan Sister of Perpetual Adoration born in Mississippi. In this excerpt from her writings, she describes Black American spirituality.

God is bread when you’re hungry, water when you’re thirsty, a harbor from the storm. God’s father to the fatherless, a mother to the motherless. God’s my sister, my brother, my leader, my guide, my teacher, my comforter, my friend. God’s the way-maker and burden-bearer, a heart-fixer and a mind-regulator. God’s my doctor who never lost a patient, my lawyer who never lost a case, my captain who never lost a battle. God’s my all in all, my everything.

God’s my rock, my sword, my shield, my lily of the valley, my pearl of great price. God’s a god of peace and a god of war. Counselor, Emmanuel, Redeemer, Savior, Prince of Peace, Son of God, Mary’s little baby, wonderful Word of God.

From “Thea Bowman: A Gift to the Church,” Modern Spiritual Masters: Writings on Contemplation and Compassion, ed. Robert Ellsberg (Orbis Books: 2008), 133.

Thea Bowman (1937–1990) was a Franciscan Sister of Perpetual Adoration born in Mississippi. In this excerpt from writings, she describes the essence of Black American spirituality. Source.