Celebrating the Spoken Word: "Digging" (Seamus Heaney)

Seamus Heaney, who died in 2013, was considered the greatest Irish poet since William Butler Yeats. I first heard him on BBC Radio when I was teaching English at Hong Kong Baptist College in the early 1980s. In the video below, he reads his poem, "Digging."

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Celebrating the Spoken Word: Rumi and the Mystery that Cannot Be Said

Coleman Barks has been a primary translator/interpreter of the poetry of the 13th-century Persian poet, Mawlana Jalaluddin Rumi. Here we have three short poems from Barks' translation which he recites with musical accompaniment. He also offers a brief commentary on how Rumi's poetry is understood "with some deeper part of our being."

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Celebrating the Spoken Word: What the Mirror Said (Lucille Clifton)

Comedian Bill Murray has been a long-time supporter of poetry. Here he reads a poem by African American poet, Lucille Clifton, "What the Mirror Said."

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Monday Music: Solace - A Mexican Serenade (Scott Joplin)

The first time I heard the music of Scott Joplin was when the 1973 film, The Sting, came to the theater. Joshua Rifkin had revived Joplin's ragtime music with his recordings just three years earlier. "Solace," is an achingly beautiful masterpiece that conveys a sense of stillness, perhaps even a quiet longing.

The song was recently used on the Star Trek: Picard series. In the episode, "Stardust City Rag," we hear the song played at the keyboard as the camera panned through some sort of intergalactic bar scene in a locale that is rife with danger. A little later in the episode, we hear Picard tell former Star Fleet officer Seven of Nine who is now a vigilante ranger, "There is no solace in revenge."

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The Power of Poetry

With Casey at the Bat

Last week I posted a video presentation of the poem, “Casey at the Bat,” by Ernest Thayer. Written in 1888, the classic American poem is a light-hearted celebration of America’s favorite pastime. Thinking about that poem reminded me of a pivotal time in my own life back in the summer of 1963.

As I third-grader, the upcoming summer posed new opportunities.  The one my father was pushing me toward was joining a Little League baseball team. During that spring, all of my classmates were getting excited about baseball, the way most kids do. It was during that time that my mother found the poem, “Casey at the Bat,” that had been reprinted in The Saturday Review. I read the poem and was thrilled by the words and the drama that unfolded. I took that page from the magazine and folded it neatly to carry in my back pocket. For the next several days, I would read it whenever I got the chance.

Somehow I got the notion that I could memorize “Casey at the Bat.” I continued to work at it until I was able to recite the entire piece “by heart.” Looking at the poem now, I am surprised that a third-grader took on such a challenge.

A Troublesome Time

Little League, however, was a disastrous failure. My un-athletic and uncoordinated body made me afraid to even try out for a team. For the first time, I felt like a disappointment to my father and an outcast from my peers.  That failed summer cast a blight upon my ability to enjoy even attending a game for years to come.

It took me far too long to recover from that baseball failure, but as an adult, I can look back in genuine amazement at that eight-year-old boy who imagined that he could recite a thirteen stanza poem from memory. If it had been a school assignment, he might have balked, but something about that poem engaged him. Something in him decided to rise up and do the work needed to accomplish the task.

I did not know it at the time, but that summer marked a crossroads in my life. It was like an ax, splitting away what was not in my nature and revealing what was true to my nature. It was impossible for me to recognize then or in the intervening years that followed, but it was the play of poetry that became the redeeming moment of that troublesome childhood event. 

Poetic Call

I was in the second grade when I wrote my first poem, fascinated that I could find words that rhyme to tell a story. It was poetry that would continue to call at odd moments of my passage through junior high and high school. It was poetry that would say to me, “Pick up your pen and write. You can do this!” For me, it was like the bashful young Caedmon's guide who came to him in a dream and encouraged him to sing of “the beginning of created things.”

Even if I had managed all those years ago to make the team, I doubt that at my age today I would have any notions of getting back on the baseball diamond to toss a few for the love of the game. But I can still catch a word and send it flying in a sonnet. I can field a phrase and toss it into a haiku, or send a cutter of simile along the line of a free verse stanza. Playing with words is a skill that one can continue to hone throughout a lifetime.

Most redeeming of all, I can look back in admiration at that eight-year-old boy who memorized “Casey at the Bat,” and say, “Great job, son! Who else could do that like you at your age?”

For me, poetry holds a two-fold power: the divining power of revealing my nature, and the healing power of allowing me to go back in time to speak a word of encouragement to the lad I once was.

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Saturday Haiku: Readiness

when the eye is trained

then steady feet may follow

if the heart so moves

____________________________

Photo by Charles Kinnaird



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Friday Funnies: TED Talk

Celebrating the Spoken Word: "Let me not to the marriage of true minds"

Since today is the birthday of The Bard of Avon, what better way to celebrate the spoken word that to hear one of Shakespeare's sonnets?

In an appearance on The Dick Cavett Show, Sir Lawrence Olivier is enticed to recite a poem. He chooses Shakespeares's Sonnet 116 from memory. The recitation begins around minute 4:40; a true model of effective oral interpretation.

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Celebrating the Spoken Word: Casey at the Bat

It's National Poetry Month. COVID-19 has shut down public gatherings, thus halting sports events. Yet we can celebrate the spoken word with a nostalgic look at America's favorite pastime with Ernest Thayer's classic, "Casey at the Bat," read by Rick Busciglio.

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Celebrating the Spoken Word: "My Mama's So Black" (Michael Harriot)

Michael Harriot is a local spoken word artist. I first heard him at the Downtown Public Library in Birmingham at their monthly "Bards and Brews" poetry presentation. His heartfelt stories in poetry draw me in and have a powerful impact every time I hear him. There are many of his poetry slam presentations on YouTube. I am sharing this one from the 2017 Individual World Poetry Slam Finals in Spokane, Washington with his poem, "My Mama's So Black."

Monday Music: Just the Two of Us (Bill Withers)

We lost one of the music greats this month with the passing of Bill Withers. His hits include "Lean on Me," "Lovely Day," and "Aint No Sunshine." "Just the Two of Us" was one that my wife and I particularly enjoyed.

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On Transcendence (and Being Discrete)

[The following essay was first posted in 2010]

I have to hide it the way some men hide their whiskey – or their girlie magazines. You see, my wife has not always been pleased about my relationship with poetry. I can get lost in it. For me, a poem can be that portal that slips me into another realm.

Once when I had a day off, I decided to spend the afternoon reading poetry. Time got away from me. My wife can home that evening and came back to the study. She took one look and said, “What is the matter?” (brief pause) “You’ve been fooling around with poetry again haven’t you?” I know how I felt, but I’m not sure what she saw. Maybe it was a distant look in my eye, some inward orientation, or perhaps my ear was tuned to some other-worldly beacon. Maybe I was just “visibly moved.” I know that for me, those moments of transcendence can leave me feeling somewhat “out-of-sync” with my surroundings. It may take me a while to get my bearings.

Hidden Beauty and Higher Callings

Consider what Percy Bysshe Shelley says of poetry: “Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.” Is it any surprise that poetry can move the reader or listener to a world beyond space and time?

There are a number of poetic witnesses whose words can tip me over the edge. When Edna St. Vincent Millay says, “I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for death” or Emily Dickenson declares that “‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers / That perches in the soul” my mind may shift into a higher frequency. When I hear William Shakespeare tell of riding away from the one he loves, I begin to move within that world. By the time I get to that last line, “My grief lies onward, my joy behind,” life is moving at a different pace and sounds have a new cadence. Hearing Bob Dylan sing “In another lifetime she must have owned the world, or been faithfully wed / To some righteous king who wrote psalms beside moonlit streams,” can make my spirit take flight in pursuit of those distant streams. Or consider those ominous words of William Butler Yeats in a poem set in wartime, “Those that I fight I do not hate, / Those that I guard I do not love.”

To quote Shelley once more: “A poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth.” Indeed, that eternal truth gives weight to our ordinary life. Of course, it is not always a question of transport to another realm during those times spent with poetic voices. Sometimes it is simply a feeling of joy or a recognition of longing. There may be a subtle illumination or an “aha moment” when a new insight is gained by seeing from another perspective.

During those times of transcendence, the coming back is just as important as the experience itself. Relative to this there is an old Christian saying, “He’s so heavenly minded that he’s no earthly good.” Likewise, there is a Buddhist saying often used in reference to new practitioners of meditation, “He stinks of Zen.”

Given my "problem with poetry," you might imagine that I needed to take some precautions after a recent trip to the library. Since I did not want to be caught “fooling around with poetry,” I did not want my wife to see me coming in the door with another book of poems. Making sure it was hidden among other things I was carrying, I surreptitiously moved the book to the back of the house post-haste, leaving it on a table to wait for an opportune time.

Finding a Remedy to the Poetry Problem

My wife and I attended a Jungian workshop that explored various means of transcendence in different cultures (my wife is a licensed professional counselor and I enjoy Jungian studies, so that is an interest we share). There were discussions and film presentations of various religious rituals designed to achieve religious ecstasy. One thing that was addressed in the workshop was the importance of having someone skilled not only in achieving an altered state of consciousness but also in assisting the practitioner back to a normal state after the experience is complete.

After one of the sessions, my wife and I approached the workshop leader. We told her of my “problem with poetry” and asked how it might be managed. She gave what I thought was very sound advice. She suggested that I create my own ritual. It could be the lighting of a candle at the beginning and the extinguishing of the flame at the end of the reading – something to signify a beginning and an end. The ritual would serve as a kind of container for the experience, thereby easing the transition back to the everyday world.

Finding those moments of transcendence seems to be a universal human trait. Some find it in music, whether it be listening to a symphony or hearing one’s favorite hymn. Others may find it in dance, theatre, or other forms of the arts. John Muir spoke and wrote of the wonders of nature in explicitly transcendent and religious terms. There are multiple ways of finding transcendence. Even for one individual, there are many ways to experience the wonder. However you get there, I’m all for it. Just be sure you come back to carry on with life and be with the ones you love.

Works cited:

A Defence of Poetry, by Percy Bysshe Shelley

“Conscientious Objector,” by Edna St. Vincent Millay

“‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers” (Poem 254), by Emily Dickinson

“Sonnet 50,” by William Shakespeare

“I and I,” by Bob Dylan (From Infidels)

“An Irish Airman Foresees His Death,” by William Butler Yeats



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Saturday Haiku: Daytime Moon

the chalk-white spring moon

foreshadows nighttime beauty

in afternoon light

___________________

Photo by Mary Tittle
Retrieved from Alabama the Beautiful Facebook site



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Friday Funnies: How's Shelter-in-place Going for You?

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Celebrating the Spoken Word: "Charlie Parker" by Jack Kerouac

In 1961, Jack Kerouac collaborated with Steve Allen to produce an album of Kerouac's poetry readings accompanied by Allen's piano improvisation. One of my favorite tracks from that albunnm is "Charlie Parker."

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Better with Poetry

“As things get worse, poetry gets better because it becomes more necessary.”

                                                                                          ~ Eileen Myles

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Poetry and Transcendence

"How does the ordinary person come to an experience of the transcendent? For a start, I would say, study poetry. Learn how to read a poem. You need not have the experience to get the message, or at least some indication of the message. It may come gradually. There are many ways, however, of coming to the transcendent experience.

"A significant approach is the way of ritual. A ritual allows us to participate in the enactment of a myth. One prepares internally to move with the image and the transcendent comes through."

                                                                        ~ Joseph Campbell, Thou Art That, p.92-93

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Celebrating the Spoken Word: I am Blessed, I Am Black america

Celebrating the Spoken Word

I met Ramona Hyman a few years ago at one of the Alabama Writers Cooperative conferences. I was pleased to buy and read her poetry collection, In the Sanctuary of a South. Ramona L. Hyman, Ph.D., is a poet, performance artist, essayist, professor, and chair of the English Department at Oakmont University in Huntsville, Alabama.

From the World Class Speakers and Entertainers site:

Hyman challenges audiences to explore a poetic imagination grounded in a feel for the southern landscape, African-American literary and political history, black spirituality, and a creative fusion of black folk speech with a Euro-American poetic vernacular.

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Monday Music: Hello in There (John Prine)

Another beloved musician was last to the coronavirus this past week. Rolling Stone Magazine once described John Prine as "the Mark Twain of songwriting." Hello in There is an excellent example of his guitar work, his weaving of a story and his reaching out in song.

Saturday Haiku: Old Pine

the bristlecone pine

encompasses life and death

in its ancient limbs*

___________________________

*The Methuselah Trail is located in the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest in the White Mountains in the Inyo National Forest, northeast of Bishop. From the trail you will see the oldest Great Basin Bristlecone pine – Methuselah.

Methuselah is more than 4,840 years old. Compare that to the oldest known giant sequoia, which is only about 3,500 years old. To put that in perspective, that means that Methuselah was already living during the 18th Egyptian Dynasty (1300 B.C.) and when the Babylonian empire was flourishing (2635 B.C.). From the California Wilderness Coalition site.

Photo: Bristlecone pine along the Methuselah Trail, in White Mountains, California
(Courtesy of Wikipedia)



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Closing Prayer for the Kingdom (The Fifteenth Station of the Cross)

< Fourteenth Station of the Cross

Oh Lord, you taught us to resist Empire by living with confidence in the reign of God, but our hearts are turned by fair winds and vain promises. Sometimes we are crushed under the heels of Empire, and sometimes we aid in Empire’s oppression, whether by active participation or by silent assent. We are the ones who shout “Hosanna!” and we are the ones who cry, “Crucify him!”

In the dark illumination of the Via Dolorosa, we have seen ourselves. We have seen ourselves capitulating to Empire; we have seen ourselves facing sorrow and death. We have also seen Christ among the living and the dying. We have walked the path that separates the Way of Life from the way of death.

In the darkness that is Good Friday, we stop to experience the absence of your light. We dwell in the moment of death and non-being as though the light has gone out. It is only by knowing the magnitude of loss and the depth of sorrow that we can truly honor the Way of Life and the hope of God's reign in our hearts.

You taught us in Matthew 25 that a nation is to be judged not by victories over its enemies, but by how it treats the weakest within its borders. May we therefore set out to care for the sick, give purpose and rehabilitation to the prisoners, provide for the hungry, and make a way for the destitute that in doing so we may all share in the bounty and gladness of the reign of God. Teach us also to care for the good earth. May we come to see all creatures that dwell within this fragile home as integral parts of your wondrous creation. 

May we live with your confidence in the reign of God, even in the face of hardship and death.           
                                                                                                                                                                                     ~ CK

*   *   *   *   *

                         From The Book of Common Prayer:

                         (just prior to the consecration of the bread and wine at the Lord’s Table)

Lord God of our Fathers: God of Abraham, Isaac, and

Jacob; God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ: Open our

eyes to see your hand at work in the world about us. Deliver

us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace

only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for

renewal. Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one

body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the

world in his name.

Risen Lord, be known to us in the breaking of the Bread.

                                                                ( Eucharistic Prayer C)

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*   *   *

Note: For a meditation on Holy Week beginning with Holy Thursday, see Paschal Triduum: A Personal Journey

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Friday Funnies: A COVID Seder

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The Fourteenth Station of the Cross: Jesus Is Laid in the Tomb

< The Thirteenth Station of the Cross                                                               Closing Prayer for the Kingdom >

Jesus' disciples place his body in the tomb

When Jesus is confined to the pages of a book,
 then he remains entombed and Empire has the upper hand

Beyond the sacred page I seek you, Lord;

my spirit waits for you, O living Word.

                       

                             ~ Mary A. Lathbury

The best way to keep Jesus in the tomb is to confine him to the pages of a book. When that book is given holy status but never read (or hardly read or selectively read), then Empire succeeds in keeping Jesus entombed so that religious people often end up doing the bidding of Empire. The popular hymn, "Break Thou the Bread of Life," by Mary Lathbury contains a subtle word of wisdom that is the key to seeing the risen Christ: "Beyond the sacred page I seek you, Lord." When we confine Christ to the pages of the Bible, he is dead to the world around us. When we allow Christ to exist beyond those pages where he can address the death-making machinations of Empire, then he is risen, indeed.

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Gregory Corso on Jack Kerouac, Poetry, and Poets

The following clip is from the 1986 documentary, What Happened to Kerouac? The late Gregory Corso who was one of the Beat Poets along with Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Gary Snyder, et al., talks about the nature of Kerouac's poetry and writing and also gives some hard-won advice for anyone wanting to pursue the life of a poet.

The Thirteenth Station of the Cross: Jesus is taken Down from the Cross

< The Twelfth Station of the Cross                                                                The Fourteenth Station of the Cross >

The lifeless body of Jesus is tenderly placed in the arms of Mary, his mother

Michelangelo's Pieta at St. Peter's Basilica in Rome

Reflecting upon Michelangelo's Pieta

By Charles Kinnaird

Revolutionary words,

Valiant tasks,

And the highest of aspirations

Having been brought to an end,

She looks with compassion

   upon his lifeless form.

He is enfolded and finds rest

Within the fully human and never-dying

Mother of all.

There is room in her flowing earthly garments

To enfold every missed step,

   every high calling,

      every miscalculation.

Each pointless task

Together with all fruitful endeavors

Are gathered into her bountiful lap.

In stillness and silence

Her fully human and never-dying love

Brings redemption to the son.

As all shall know

When the clamoring and shouting have ended,

All things are brought with compassion

To the bosom of the

Heavenly and Earthly

Never-dying

Mother of all.

*    *    *

Migratory bird caught in oil spill in South Korea (BBC photo)

In the wake of Empire, souls are often crushed. When an oil company wreaks havoc upon the environment, many lives are lost. When we try to restore the damage, we are taking Christ's body down from the Empire's cross of death in hopes of seeing life come forth again. As a matter of public relations, Empire will apologize for the deaths and may offer a pittance in compensation. Afterward, however, Empire will continue its strides in death-making.

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The Twelfth Station of the Cross: Jesus dies on the Cross

< The Eleventh Station of the Cross                                                              The Thirteenth Station of the Cross >

After suffering greatly on the cross, Jesus bows his head and dies.

The Cross of Extinction

We have a custom of making beautiful crosses in religious art, as though forgetting the horrible suffering inflicted with crosses by the ancient Romans in their executions of criminals and rebels. The cross formed here is almost beautiful, but not when one realizes that each photo in that cruciform picture is an animal that is recently extinct. They lived recently enough to have been captured by modern photography, but they no longer exist. The progress of our modern day Empire is ever hastening the prospects of death in the form of more species extinctions to the point that some say the earth is on the verge of another mass biological extinction event. Jesus proclaimed the Kingdom of God as a pathway way to life, as opposed to Empire, whose most consistent legacy is death.



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Celebrating the Spoken Word: Church Going by Phillip Larkin

Our Continuing Engagement

“Poetry is not a means to an end, but a continuing engagement with being alive.”  -  Kim Addonizio

Here's to our continuing engagement!

Phillip Larkin said a poem “represents the mastering, even if just for a moment, of the pessimism and the melancholy, and enables you, you the poet, and you, the reader, to go on.”

So here is Phillip Larkin reading his poem, "Church Going."

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The Eleventh Station of the Cross: Jesus is Nailed to the Cross

< The Tenth Station of the Cross                                                                             The Twelfth Station of the Cross >

Jesus' hands and feet are nailed to the cross

"St Louis Unites: A Dream of Freedom Songs"  Photo collage by Basil Kincaid

Do police serve the community, or do they serve Empire? One quick way to discern that question is whether they promote life or threaten with death. If they promote life, then they serve the community. We understand the chill behind the term "police state." It is the chill of death.

In our own day, we are hearing even our religious leaders advise blacks and Latinos to avoid being shot by the police by simply obeying and doing what they say. Scripture texts are even cited to justify such fearful and numbing obedience.

Ironically, it was Empire's emphasis upon order and obedience that resulted in Jesus' crucifixion. The order and safety of Empire is appealing, but when we choose Empire just to stay alive, we must then endure a thousand small deaths throughout our days.



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Monday Music: That Thing You Do!

Adam Schlesinger died last week after contracting the COVID-19 virus. He wrote the song for the 1996 movie hit, "That Thing You Do," Tom Hanks' movie directorial debut about a fictitious 1964 one-hit-wonder pop band. The song in itself exemplified the perfect pop song of the era.

Schlesinger was 52 years old.

From Pitch:

That Thing You Do! Is a Testament to the Power of One Great Song

Adam Schlesinger, who later found fame with his power-pop group Fountains of Wayne, was just starting out with a music publishing deal for PolyGram when friends at the entertainment company urged him to submit a demo to a movie looking for a Beatles-inspired, ’60s-pop tune. The pitch referenced post-British Invasion American bands like the Knickerbockers, but Schlesinger—a lifelong Beatles freak—bypassed the imitators and created a hybrid of early Fab Four hits alongside his friend Mike Viola (who sings lead on the track). “There’s a little bit of ‘I Want to Hold Your Hand’ when it goes to that minor chord, which I think is the best chord in the whole song,” Schlesinger later said. “I tried to do that a little bit [in ‘That Thing You Do!’], where the song’s in E and then it goes to the C sharp minor.” Paired with the song’s harmonizing vocals, that minor-chord shift is catnip to ears raised on Lennon-McCartney compositions; the faint hint of sadness endures even after “That Thing You Do!” is eventually polished to a surf-rock sheen
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The Tenth Station of the Cross: Jesus Is Stripped of His Garments

< The Ninth Station of the Cross                                                                      The Eleventh Station of the Cross >

The soldiers strip Jesus of his garments, treating him as a common criminal

Juvenile detention center in Florida (photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

Across the country, school systems are shutting the doors of academic opportunity on students and funneling them into the juvenile and criminal justice systems. The combination of overly harsh school policies and an increased role of law enforcement in schools has created a “school-to-prison pipeline,” in which punitive measures such as suspensions, expulsions, and school-based arrests are increasingly used to deal with student misbehavior, and huge numbers of youth are pushed out of school and into prisons and jails.  

See more at: https://forwardpromise.org/research-resources/school-discipline-reform-and-advocacy/

One of the traits of Empire is that it freely discards its citizens without regard to potential or inherent worth. In the African American community, there is indeed a "school-to-prison pipeline" pattern that some are trying to address. Unfortunately, the problem is practically invisible to citizens of the Empire.



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The Ninth Station of the Cross: Jesus Falls a Third Time

< The Eighth Station of the Cross                                                                    The Tenth Station of the Cross >

Weakened almost to the point of death, Jesus falls a third time

An aerial view shows people protesting against Amazon deforestation during the 2009 World Social Forum near the mouth of the Amazon River in the city of Belem January 27, 2009.

Humans have been practicing deforestation for thousands of years, since the dawn of agriculture when we discovered we could manage crops to feed increasingly large populations. In recent years, however, deforestation has increased exponentially with increasing encroachment upon the tropical rain forests. We are wanting more forest products and demanding more farmland. We are now facing serious questions of sustainability and climate change. Indigenous peoples are being displaced and we could possibly damage the sacred body of the earth irrevocably. Will we weaken the sacred body to the point of death?



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Saturday Haiku: Mockingbird

the mockingbird sings –

though all may hear the music

he sings for just one

____________________

Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons



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The Eighth Station of the Cross: Jesus Meets the Women of Jerusalem

< The Seventh Station of the Cross                                                                     The Ninth Station of the Cross >

Jesus tells the women to weep not for him but for themselves and for their children

Pablo Picasso's "The Weeping Woman"

Throughout the ages, it has been the women who bear so much of the suffering inflicted by Empire. When Jesus spoke to the women in Jerusalem on his way to the cross, he saw their weeping and knew the greater sorrow that they would endure in the years ahead when their children would grow up just to become fodder for the war machine of Empire. Picasso painted “The Weeping Woman” in 1937 during the Spanish Civil War. He painted “Guernica” that same year to depict the tragedy and suffering brought on by the casual bombing of Spain by the Nazi war machine. While "Guernica" has come to be a reminder of the tragedy of war, "The Weeping Woman" is a universal image of suffering.

When you go out today, take note of the women you see. Many of them will be silently bearing the sorrow of having lost someone dear to them at the hands of Empire and its war machine. They bear the suffering brought on by lost lives, cripples bodies and shattered minds of their children who grew up to serve their country and were crushed by Empire.



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Celebrating the Spoken Word: Conscientious Objector

Celebrating the Spoken Word

In 2016, it was my privilege to participate in the My Favorite Poem event. I read "Conscientious Objector," by Edna St. Vincent Millay. 

In the the video below, you can hear my presentation introduced by Jim Reed, editor of the Birmingham Arts Journal.   

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The Seventh Station of the Cross: Jesus Falls a Second Time

< The Sixth Station of the Cross                                                                         The Eighth Station of the Cross >

Jesus falls beneath the weight of the cross a second time

Abandoned gas masks litter the floor

Graffiti adorns the ghost city of Pripyat 

It was April 26, 1986, when the Chernobyl nuclear disaster occurred. Pictured above we see the large nuclear power plants standing tall against the sky before the disaster. We also see the sad aftermath of nuclear power gone wrong.  Billed as "safe, clean energy" by the Empire in the U.S., nations of power naturally pursued greater sources of power. Near misses in the U.S. have sent warning signals, but accidents in the former Soviet Union and more recently in Japan have demonstrated how severely we can strike at the sacred body where we live. Empire shows little regard for the sacred body of nature. Under the reign of God which Jesus preached, life will come to all. Under the rule of Empire, however, death is always looming.

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