Confession and Absolution

The admittance of sin and reception of God’s forgiveness based on wording in 1 John 1:9.

"I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me."
-- John 14:6, Biblos

"You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."
-- John 8:32, Biblos

"...strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it."
-- Matthew 7:14, Biblos

"Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."
-- Matthew 11:29-30, quoted in the Daily Word for January 2008, Silent Unity

The stars are suns
and every one has planets
orbiting, unseen.
One is mine, or yours,
or maybe more --
pasts we can't remember,
futures we won't glean.
This year, like other seasons,
touches and leaves
for someplace grave,
lies in mneumonic history
as spirits sigh their
ghostly, ghastly truth.

Over the past thirty years, I have visited and lived in Appalachia, a region that represents all that's best and worst of the American, and perhaps human, experience. Its settlers throughout the ages define still our history on the planet. Descendants of original native tribes, themselves immigrants from other countries and territories, find a place and voice amidst more modern ones, from the boundaries man has made of land and brain, the rough frontier of space. Its sometimes daunting crests and isolated glens protect and preserve nuances of distinct identities, from plant to mammal species.

The clash of resolutely independent accents, mores and morals wax to conflict and wane to a fragile peace. Popular mass icons, the MacDonalds and Holiday Inns, wash uneasily against canning jars grandma used, still filled each summer and fall with traditional home garden produce -- peas and beans, beets and corn -- and a drumbeat more primitive and innate to the universe, the beginnings and endings of perception and time.

Servants of earth and sky dissonate against the cold bite of technology in everyday life. Our senses are overwhelmed by the juxtaposed images of ancient and futuristic, power corralled by a few on one level and dispersed among the many on another, our choices, individually and collectively, one by one for discerning and shaping realities, and the mechanistic forces uncontrolled in their direction and effect within which grandchildren will flourish and perish.

It all becomes too much and we retreat to the place where poets speak and arts record our turmoil. We object, we accept, we muddle through. Do we know very much, or nothing at all? A journey in Appalachia -- with its human color, diversity of nature, and stark display of contrasts from primordial to post-modern -- may help us find the truth of what we have been, where we stand now, and how we might travel through time still unformed by mind, body and soul.

These musings mark the end of a personal sojourn in Appalachian backcountry and the end of a dream, a way of life there, not just for me personally but for the culture which has been absorbed more and more by urban areas to the East and the inevitable incursions, evolutions of industry.

If rural life, unplugged, was less than perfect, prosaic, pristine in its daily accoutrements, it held the awe and stillness, peace and truth of natural organic flow and the immanent presence of a Creator-God who whispered through each unmowed blade of grass, each ripple over aboriginal stone.

"...they that plow iniquity, and sow wickedness, reap the same." -- Job 4:8

...whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." -- Galatians 6:7

"Do not be discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s." -- 2 Chronicles 20:15

"... Hell’s foundations quiver at the shout of praise;/ Brothers lift your voices, loud your anthems raise..../ Like a mighty army moves the church of God;/ Brothers, we are treading where the saints have trod..../ Long as earth endureth, men the faith will hold,/ Kingdoms, nations, empires, in destruction rolled...." -- hymn, Onward, Christian Soldiers

"... each follower of Jesus Christ is not simply called, but also commanded to fight." -- Center for Church Music Songs and Hymns

A mighty fortress is our God, A bulwark never failing, 
Our helper He amid the flood, Of mortal ills prevailing. 
For still our ancient foe, Doth seek to work us woe; 
His craft and power are great; And, armed with cruel hate, 
On earth is not his equal. 

And though this world, with devils filled, Should threaten to undo us, 
We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us. 
The prince of darkness grim, We tremble not for him; 
His rage we can endure, For lo! his doom is sure; 
One little word shall fell him. 

That word above all earthly powers, No thanks to them, abideth; 
The Spirit and the gifts are ours Through Him who with us sideth; 
Let good and kindred go, This mortal life also; 
The body they may kill: God's truth abideth still; 
His Kingdom is forever.

A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, by Martin Luther

"The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore."
-- Psalms 121:7,8