My sorrow was turned to hope this morning. I am grateful for that. First the sorrow…
Sadness of late has flooded my soul as I’ve watched events unfold. It triggered the classic Bob Dylan lyric “who gonna take away his license to kill?” in my heart, and really, can anyone say it better? Seriously, just read and listen to these lyrics. Poetic genius!!
License to Kill
(from the album Infidels recorded in 1983)
Man thinks 'cause he rules the earth he can do with it as he please
And if things don't change soon, he will
Oh, man has invented his doom
First step was touching the moon
Now, there's a woman on my block
She just sit there as the night grows still
She say who gonna take away his license to kill?
Now, they take him and they teach him and they groom him for life
And they set him on a path where he's bound to get ill
Then they bury him with stars
Sell his body like they do used cars
Now, there's a woman on my block,
She just sit there facin' the hill
She say who gonna take away his license to kill?
Now, he's hell-bent for destruction, he's afraid and confused
And his brain has been mismanaged with great skill
All he believes are his eyes
And his eyes, they just tell him lies
But there's a woman on my block
Sitting there in a cold chill
She say who gonna take away his license to kill?
Ya may be a noisemaker, spirit maker
Heartbreaker, backbreaker,
Leave no stone unturned
May be an actor in a plot
That might be all that you got
'Till your error you clearly learn
Now he worships at an altar of a stagnant pool
And when he sees his reflection, he's fulfilled
Oh, man is opposed to fair play
He wants it all and he wants it his way
Now, there's a woman on my block
She just sit there as the night grows still
She say who gonna take away his license to kill?
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And then, I woke up this morning to three Psalms in my office of readings. Pretty much the groundwork for the song above.
Wow. Just WOW! Thanks Papa!
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Psalm 9B (10)
Thanksgiving
“Blessed are you poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (Lk 6:20).
The Lord will protect the rights of the oppressed.
Lord, why do you stand afar off
and hide yourself in times of distress?
The poor man is devoured by the pride of the wicked:
he is caught in the schemes that others have made.
For the wicked man boasts of his heart’s desires;
the covetous blasphemes and spurns the Lord.
In his pride the wicked says: ‘He will not punish.
There is no God.’ Such are his thoughts.
His path is ever untroubled;
your judgement is far from his mind.
His enemies he regards with contempt.
He thinks: ‘Never shall I falter:
misfortune shall never be my lot.’
His mouth is full of cursing, guile, oppression,
mischief and deceit under his tongue.
He lies in wait among the reeds;
the innocent he murders in secret.
His eyes are on the watch for the helpless man.
He lurks in hiding like a lion in his lair;
he lurks in hiding to seize the poor;
he seizes the poor man and drags him away.
He crouches, preparing to spring,
and the helpless fall beneath his strength.
He thinks in his heart: ‘God forgets,
he hides his face, he does not see.’
Glory to the Father and to the Son,
and to the Holy Spirit:
as it was in the beginning, is now,
and will be for ever. Amen.
The Lord will protect the rights of the oppressed.
Psalm 9B (10)
Lord, you have seen our trouble and our sorrow.
Arise then, Lord, lift up your hand!
O God, do not forget the poor!
Why should the wicked spurn the Lord
and think in his heart: ‘He will not punish’?
But you have seen the trouble and sorrow,
you note it, you take it in hand.
The helpless trusts himself to you;
for you are the helper of the orphan.
Break the power of the wicked and the sinner!
Punish his wickedness till nothing remains!
The Lord is king for ever and ever.
The heathen shall perish from the land he rules.
Lord, you hear the prayer of the poor;
you strengthen their hearts; you turn your ear
to protect the rights of the orphan and oppressed:
so that mortal man may strike terror no more.
Glory to the Father and to the Son,
and to the Holy Spirit:
as it was in the beginning, is now,
and will be for ever. Amen.
Lord, you have seen our trouble and our sorrow.
Psalm 11 (12)
A prayer against the proud
“The Father deigned to send his Son for the sake of us, the poor” (St Augustine).
The words of the Lord are words without alloy, silver from the furnace, seven times refined.
Help, O Lord, for good men have vanished;
truth has gone from the sons of men.
Falsehood they speak one to another,
with lying lips, with a false heart.
May the Lord destroy all lying lips,
the tongue that speaks high-sounding words,
those who say: ‘Our tongue is our strength;
our lips are our own, who is our master?’
‘For the poor who are oppressed and the needy who groan
I myself will arise,’ says the Lord,
‘I will grant them the salvation for which they thirst.’
The words of the Lord are words without alloy,
silver from the furnace, seven times refined.
It is you, O Lord, who will take us in your care
and protect us for ever from this generation.
See how the wicked prowl on every side,
while the worthless are prized highly by the sons of men.
Glory to the Father and to the Son,
and to the Holy Spirit:
as it was in the beginning, is now,
and will be for ever. Amen.
The words of the Lord are words without alloy, silver from the furnace, seven times refined.
Psalm-prayer
Your light is true light, Lord, and your truth shines like the day. Direct us to salvation through your life-giving words. May we be saved by always embracing your word.
℣. The Lord guides his humble in the right path.
℟. He teaches his way to the poor.
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Our heavenly Father knows… he knows and loves us anyway and wants to bring healing to us, if we were but willing.
Alas, too often I am not willing to surrender to his infinite loving care. Too often I don’t even trust that He is good. Too often I have believed the lies of the enemy that tell me God the Father cannot be trusted.
But then there is hope in my heart, for today at Mass I saw some people who do trust in His goodness. It brought tears of joy to my eyes.
And not just at Mass. I look at my beloved Margie and her self-sacrificing outpouring of love for her staff, clients and our children. I listen to her and my children grapple with the current events, groping and struggling to respond with courage and love… and you know what?… that both displays and fills me with hope.
Love wins in the end. (I cheated and read the end of the book ;D)
I’ll end with lyric from another prophet, T-bone Burnett:
Presidents come and presidents go
They rise like smoke they fall like snow
Do you believe the things you say
Your lofty thoughts are filled with hay
What is this faith that you profess
That led to this colossal mess
When you awaken from this coma
You'll find you were in Oklahoma
When you crawl out of this self delusion
You're going to need a soul transfusion
This version of the world will not be here long
It is already gone It is already gone
This version of the world will not be here long
It is already gone It is already gone
(from the song "Palestine Texas" found on the 2006 release entitled "The True False Identity")
Listen to it here
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