Upstream

As I meet those that challenge the current of mediocrity
I have discovered this is a lonely path that few succeed
They reach beyond to dream of solving world problems
To directly touch individual souls and bridge the chasm

They have no blazed trails to follow towards the infinite
Yet move towards suffering using Gods illuminated light
Every single one of them a visible sign of Christ’s agape
Creating trembles in the otherwise silent sounds of decay

In my own heart I see them there in daily silent prayer
Asking God’s grace so they may continue to deeply care
All I can offer myself is my intelligence and a promise
I will soon walk with Christ, and no longer be cautious

I like others have a dream, now the dream pursues me
Resisting futile, I no longer wait the dreams visibility
I must pursue its reality, challenge the narrow course
Chase the vision aiming straight into its human source

As I learn to navigate, God is quieting the rushing current
Calming the raging tears of grief inside of abandonment
He has a plan for me, I am simply the flesh in the dream
We will fight the current to change the origin upstream

Justice is Beyond Private Charity – a Parable

There is a story told, now quite famous within the social justice circles:

Once upon a time there was a town that was built just beyond the bend of a large river. One day some of the children of the town were playing beside the river when they noticed bodies floating in the water.  They ran for help and the townsfolk quickly pulled the bodies out of the river.

One body was dead so they buried it.  One was alive, but quite ill, so they put that person into the hospital.  The third turned out to be a healthy child, who they placed with a family who cared for it and who took it to school.

From that day on, every day a number of bodies came floating down the river and, every day, the good people of the town would pull them out and tend to them – taking the sick to the hospitals, placing children with families, and burying those who were dead.

This went on for years; each day brought its quota of bodies, and the townsfolk not only came to expect a number of bodies each day but also worked at developing more elaborate systems for picking them out of the river and tending to them.  Some of the town folk became quite generous in tending to these bodies and a few extraordinary ones even gave up their jobs so that they could tend to this concern full-time.  And the town itself felt a certain healthy pride in its generosity. 

However, during all these years and despite all that generosity and effort, nobody thought to go up the river, beyond the bend that hid from their sight what was above them, and find out why, daily, those bodies came floating down the river.
Page 168 of The Holy Longing; Ron Rolheiser, OMI