People of the Resurrection...
This weekend, the 2nd of 2 pieces of literature for your reflection; today a poem by e.e. cummings (1894-1962), shared by Sr. Mary Samuel Brunner from Bay Settlement, while I was pastor out there from 1992-2003. For me, it reflects the dauntless witness of that little country church, or our suburban church & the Church Universal—come what may—through the ages!
i am a little church (no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness;
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection;
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope; and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains.
i am a little church (far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish) at peace with nature;
i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing.
winter by spring, i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)
Little Church – or Great Cathedral…please…
“God bless us...EVERY one”!