Posts by vunglaub

Living life as Child of God , walking with Jesus to see His kingdom come by the Power of the Holy Spirit. And writing of His Majesty and Glory in ALL THINGS that HE may be MAGNIFID ABOVE ALL THINGS! vunglaub@wordpress.com

Palms Sunday

We remember how you put palms in our hands,

palms in our open ,naked hands. Hands that once

tapped tapped keep tapping on wood and on flesh.

Before these ritual cleansings and gloves ond trash

Palms in our hands, hands that once lifted , opened drifted and dropped.

We consider all our sins like deadly viruses on these hands caught.

Palm of our hands are dirty cursed hands that infect

tap tap tapping on our keyboard and screen without effect

faking loving and contact with people alone and unseen

palms of our hands we proudly think of as clean

dropping and depressed alone weary and lean

We shake fist in judgement at the sight of your open hands

we cannot see palms of justice nor palms of mecy’s command

so tap tap tapping as we bang shout at door and demand

“What are you doing God? Why is death creeping  across the land?”

Palms of your hands , oh the palms of your hands too far away to see!!!

Cannot believe they are surrendered , bruised crushed , stretched , nailed to a tree!

yet , now and then , we heal without knowing or holding the palm of your hands

palms of love, palms of compassion that have roots from Eden to the plank

Burrowing driving digging demanding justice rank upon rank

Yet tap tapping bleeds love from the nails in the palm of your hand.

Where you reply to us by your justice these palms from Mercy’s command

Tap tapping at every soul bent across sick shore and sick land

“where were you child when I killed my son like a lamb?

see you were here  child , then  as now , in the palm of my hand”

________________________________________

“Then did they spit in his face, and buffeted him; and others smote him with the palms of their hands,”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭26:67‬ ‭KJV‬‬

 “Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭49:16‬ ‭KJV‬‬

“Indeed before the day was, I am He; And there is no one who can deliver out of the palm of My hand; I work, and who will reverse it?””

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭43:13‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

 

 

Entrance Antiphon

“The biggest  closet is the church “the old woman told the child. “But we cant go there  Grammy ,the doors are locked” the child told the old woman. “I will take you to a secret one “the old woman whispered as they walked down the sidewalk.

Today side by side they walk towards a chapel. It is a very strange day in history when all the churches are  closed like vaults because of a virus. Still, the old woman took the child in hope ..in Hope the child might know God. 

Fifty years earlier, I was child. I rode my bike many places. It was long before it became common for men and women to abduct and abuse, before it became dangerous to ride without helmets and phones, before bikes had many styles and gears. It was in the days when a red Schwinn bike could take you to the biggest prayer closet in town. And so it took me one day, my first day of worship in a church. 

I was very thirsty on my ride and found the park waterfountain out of water . So I thought if the church was open they may have water. I pulled the door open. It was like Alice opening into a wonderland. Suddenly I realized  I  also might find out about a question I asked my mother the night before. “Who is God?”

A friend , Susan McGahee , talked  every day about “God”  as if  he was someone in her family . She would often introduce me to “God” by referring to him often and saying I needed to meet Him.  But  everytime I  would say ” God” , it  felt awkward. I was certain it sounded to her I might not like him. I was somewhat suspicious since my father had told me to not trust people that talked about “God”. And I just wanted to know it wasnt someone she made up in her imagination. Fifty years ago every child had a great imagination. There was no doubt that she or anyone else could have made up a character called “God”. 

When I entered that first church, I didnt plan to ask bout “God” but, something about this big closet demanded a either a request or a greeting. For those who knew “God” they might greet him. But I did not know Him so when I saw a box with a labeled “prayer requests” I wrote my request. I had just had the word request in my vocabulary list and knew its definition.

Though I was 10 years old , I felt as big and bold as an adult in a prayer closet . I wrote”Hi Mr. God who are you? Let me know you like my friend Susan” I folded it tightly in a square , slurped from the fountain beside the wooden box , left singing the chorus of a song my mother played “I really wanna know you” from “my sweet lord” by Beatles member George Harrison. This was my first encounter with church and this was my first entrance antiphon. 

Entrance antiphons start the mass with an expectancy. An expectancy that we will meet  God and he will meet us in  our minds and hearts.  As the leader anounces “the enterance antiphon”, folks rise, even since the beginning of Christianity, to say a text or verse of the psalm . It’s friends, brothers and sisters , in unison, greeting and asking of God. 

Even folks that are not catholic enter their prayer closets with such intention. They want to meet with God. It is the knock on the door of heaven when we say from our hearts “show me your ways oh God” . The enterance antiphon  has been the created way of the church since its inception. Not because of mans intent, does the antiphon enter our worship,  but because of  God’s intent in us. God creates us requesting of Him to show Himself  and Him desiring to fulfill our requests by showing Himself to us. 

It was for 48 more years that I entered the empty open churches with my own enterance antiphon. Most all my requests were desperate pleas and most all were childlike . And everyone of them , every enterance antiphon ,placed as a prayer request , was answered by the one I first called “Mr God.”

I write this now outside such a church . I write this outside the biggest prayer closet of all… the Catholic Church. I write this now as I watch the old woman and little girl sanitize their hands before going into a chapel, a closet that is always open.A closet that is always open when everywhere is closed.  I write this now knowing that forever little girls can ask “Mr God who are you?” and get an answer. 

Notes:

  1. Entrance antiphons were first solidified as part of the mass by Pope Celestine 1 432 . In early time,  lines from  the psalms of David were to be sung. Presently , mostly psalms are used but, other scriptures from the old testament and sometimes new, are used. It is usually a short sentence that reflects the core  message of the mass for the day. For me it sounds as if it is a souls summary of the Lords intentions for the day… but that is only my interpretation. I am after all a closet catholic. 
  2. https://youtu.be/8qJTJNfzvr8My Sweet Lord was a song by George Harrison that tried to incorporate Christianity into all religions. A postmodern song with the intent to bring peace among all religions with a sweet chorus ” I really want to know you” that God did indeed use for me. But Jesus would return with His antiphon… no , “I did not come to bring peace but a sword ” “I am the way the truth and the life, no man can come to the father but through me” Matthew 10:34,John 14:6

 

 

 

closets

“Come out of that closet child? lets go somewhere” I would coaxed my daughter many afternoons. Forever I will remember the face of her  reluctant obedience as she would leave behind her beautiful world to go walk with me to a park. As we walked she would awaken out of her imaginary world . Slowly she would tell me of what she saw and did  in the closet. Every conflict was resolved in her closet. And everything good was preserved.

I had  other children. I would say to them , “its time to come out of the closet!” Their  faces ,I remember ,were filled with reluctant shame as they were leaving behind an addictive world. A world where conflict is resolved with the  pained senses being anestisized by image or substance.  Since creation , Everyday , children all over the world ,are coming in and out of  these closets.

But as much as there are imaginative kids and addicted kidsa ,there are also big children in another closet. The biggest and bravest kids I know still talk abut going to this beautiful place called their “prayer closet. ” these closets may be as big as a bedroom or as small as a backpack or even the hem of Suzanne Wesley’s apron. It is a hiding place for a child of God to enter the beautiful world. Even Jesus came from a closet out into calvary. Jesus went to a beautiful secluded place before He brought His beauty to us.

I suppose it was not so different than the duplicitous closets the first children. Adam and Eve lived in. in their innocent prayer closet, the garden, they divided. at one point were with the beautiful and holy. Here all was more than they could ask or imagine And then , in their shame were hiding in the same closet with their imagination pained and paranoid imprisoned in darkness. At another moment they were reaching for the forbidden.

Still the whole of mankind groans in closets.While some are in prayer closets, others are in addictive closets trying to kill the shame. Instead of hiding in garmets of beauty and truth they are hiding in drink or food or images.

Both in the closet are drinking from a cup . One from the cup of shame and wrath, the other from the cup of acceptance and grace. From the cup of grace , the child’s eyes are opened to a world that is infused with Jesus. From the cup of wrath the child is intoxicated into a blindness where all is dark. The light is off.

But from the cup of grace, the child’s eyes are opened to a world that is illuminated with Jesus . Many children of God have, at times, been in both these closets . Some by trickery and pain have been hiding in the closet that is a prison But  a few small ones, by childlike faith, have been hidden in a closet as a refuge where every intention of their Father is illuminated.

I come out of such a closet . And The Father has spoken  “Child when are you going to come out and lets go somewhere”

The following blogs, in the category of “Church Doors” will journal my hiding in the Catholic closet. I may lose friends, increase enemies . But, I will be able to walk again with my Father and tell the stories of all the adventures in Jesus he has shown me in this secluded closet.

I thank my husband George Unglaub, Good Shepherd Church and Blessed Sacrament chapel for every day I have been In Our Father’s Closet.

 

Live Stream

They said that I could not come and see you

They said I could imagine you were here with me

They said I should  dress as if you were coming to see me

They said  I should put chair and cross and water out for you

So I did , I dressed , I lit a candle , and in a bowl I poured water

And Suddenly, before  I could kneel, before I could think on you , before  I invited you to  come

you came. … as a voice of light on all that I thought about you

You came with a legion of light in places hiding from you

you said that you came to see me

you said that you are more than I can imagine

you said I can sit with you

You said to see your love on the cross

You said to drink of your water

you said “you are lovely”

you wrapped and warmed and wooed me in your arms of light.

4Th Sunday in Lent

“Then Jesus spoke to them again, saying, “I am the light of the world. He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life.””

‭‭John‬ ‭8:12‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

 

Ashes , Ashes, we all fall down

“Blow the trumpet in Zion, Consecrate a fast, Call a sacred assembly;
Let the priests, who minister to the LORD, Weep between the porch and the altar; Let them say, “Spare Your people, O LORD, And do not give Your heritage to reproach, That the nations should rule over them. Why should they say among the peoples, ‘Where is their God?’ ””
‭‭Joel‬ ‭2:15, 17‬ ‭
Dedicated to George Unglaub
Lent 2020

What shall we do in this vineyard of palms ?

where Prudentius’s vices are verdant fronds?

where we pretend to be “Blessed “trunks from the very first psalm

While our roots sit shallow in a climate so calm

What shall be our song ?

While vile villains and viruses threaten the crop ?

shall we sing “round the Rosie “before media’s shop ?

Till preachers hold out hands to command winds to stop.

Or politicians plead for another country’s crop.

Shall we hear from afar an ancient man’s song?

Telling a dirge for all we’ve done wrong?

He rebukes our tongues with Holy tong!

“young Fools who stand at palm tree with locked knee !

You Sloths at ease as you do as you please

Weaklings who can’t cut virtuous frond

you have no good thing for the King of the palm!

shame to you ,shame to you

There is no fruit to bear through you !

You fools ,Young fools !” the ancient man cries

“ you have no hallelujah !”

he Weeps and sighs

So what , Shall we say as we look at the field?

Can we bend our stiff knees where our heart’s once kneeled?

can Wednesday Ash intention bring better yield?

Can Repentance burning 40 make A sick land healed?

The child rises to Ask the ancient Man “can we believe ? “

The child takes his hands makes a ring for them to receive

Singing …

From ashes Upon ashes another Easter crop has a chance!

See old man a new palm tree made roots for our dance !

Oh sing with me old man To the king of the palm ..

and The king of the ground where we once belonged.

Oh sing ashes and hallelujah as we fall down. !

Sing once again old man and receive your crown.

 

My Valentine

In memory of meeting my first love, Jesus, on February 14 , 1986
Grace Church ,Tallahassee ,Florida

I met you on a pew

one Valentine’s Day .

From saying I never knew you .

Never trusted or cared to .

I came to the back pew

one Valentines Day .

Preachers teachers and offering keepers

Tried to tell me about you.

Tried to tell me to like you.

But they did not know you .

You were on the back pew

Waiting for me on Valentine’s Day

I saw you In the splinters of that pew

on Valentine’s Day

I saw and I knew that you were beautiful

and I saw and knew that you were marred

I saw and knew that you were flawless

and I saw and knew that you were scarred

The rays of your ways warmed the pew

On Valentine’s Day.

No guile no malice , nor covet or con

But you took these sins and said “ be gone “

And soaked me with sweet words of grace

Til every cell Gave you a place

So I could be pure and divine

As you have made me truly thine.

I will live each day as your Valentine!

Packin’

Oh Father God

I’m so sorry to say

I went packin’ today

Down the road far away

From the church and the gun

Far away I will run

See Father God

I’m

“ different, weird, odd”

the church folks say

They don’t all agree

on Jesus , The way

So I wasn’t sure to stay

Where to

Bend

And

Bow

And

Cry

And pray

Cause everyone was packin’ this coming Sunday

Please Forgive me my father ,

I and they don’t know what we do …

We strike the ear like Peter slew

Forgive us Father

Make us one and new

Return us worshipping pew to

Pew

Til

We bow

We bend

We die for you

“And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of his testimony. And they loved not their own lives, even unto death.”

‭‭Revelation‬ ‭12:11‬ ‭

“Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭26:52‬ ‭KJV

Parched

His lips are like concrete cracked beneath a florescent sun

my hands are gloved blue to hold one more moistened sponge

not hyssop or wine, nor vinegar,whiskey or the enemy gall

just one drop of water, i say …” one drop , the physician says that all.”

his eyes draw open , a pool of blue thanks ,reflecting Our distant light

His eyes flicker as sparks of joy like darting fire flies in the  night

The sponge falls from my shaking fingers onto a blanket of white

” A drop is enough for now” he says”the physician may be right”

The sponge I toss with its debris to fellowship with waste

Ive so many more patients ,my care is killed by haste

The drawing of blood and plans,injections , bedpans and pills

Thinking “Is not this thirst of his the least of many ills ?”

But ….,

His “Thankyou, ” I hear follow me like a clinging child

“That will last me for today” the man said so softly and mild

I stop with pill and pan and blankets towels pillows and sheets

There comes this moment where pride drops all at Jesus’s lips and feet

“Oh have mercy my God our Father on these and mine parched soul

Oh have mercy God our Father on both us whom the “bell doth toll”

Oh have mercy God our Father, we feel one drop from  you as a stream

One drop from you is a river, breaking through heart’s concrete seams.”

For I know there’s a physician Lord over this parched nurses heart

Who gives manna and water for souls daily start

And on this very morn , I, ungrateful for a drop of blood

Still jesus quenched my lips and now to my soul ,His body , He floods

Notes:

When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue is parched with thirst, I the Lord will answer them; I the God of Israel will not forsake them.”Isaiah‬ ‭41:17‬ ‭

We all are the ” poor and needy” and God has “answered us ” by His Living water , His Son.

“I will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys. I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water.

that they may see and know, may consider and understand together, that the hand of the Lord has done this, the Holy One of Israel has created it.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭41:18, 20‬ ‭

“Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.'””

‭‭John‬ ‭7:38‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Petals For The King

There are rose petals on the sidewalk outside the Church today.

I nod to them as I walk to the chapel.

I see them lay prostrate.

Unattached alone.

Emojis of Advent.

anyone who passes can see them.

I cannot nod at those who walk beside me.

They have head down at feet

or phone.

We connect instead over petals.

Both” I “and “ they “see them

The red petals on white concrete.

It is Black Friday but the way is white.

White concrete with red rose petals.

“What is it ?“ they murmur

Our feet flatten petal then petal then petal

Some answer “ there must have been a wedding dear “

Others say“ maybe it was from a funeral in the church here “

“No no “the young lover says to his girl,

“ it’s a man tearing rose petals asking do you love me do you not ?“

“Silly brother” the little sister punches the young man

“the rose petals just fell off because they wanted to act just like the fall leaves”

Toddling beside them all ,the Youngest looks up and says

“oh no God ! You forgot to give us water ! you gave us your rose petal tears!”

Who knows why there are rose petals on the sidewalk

but the rose petals on the sidewalk they surely know.

about the day before and they were strewn From altar out the door

Strewn to open a season for the king. So we could see …

like a petal peeled from a beautiful rose

is the Eucharist from the host of heaven …

Just a little petal of his love.

Connecting us to the King .

The Arsononist

Dear Sirs ,

I write to say,

I no longer need your appraisal today.

See, There is an arsonist who inspects my house.

He gave an estimate of me since I first lost my spouse.

He looked at foundation and function ,shingles and shutters

He looked at  wood and brick , fireplace and gutters

many neighbors, like you ,came to see His face,

They saw His eyes were as fire and set like flint in place .

These too asked “should He be the one to appraise this dwelling?”

“I think I could be more trusted ” the church folks came telling

But I chose this arsonist appraiser  only because I liked His eyes

And when I let Him in my house  to my shame and surprise,

He found rot and mold , spoke” this is too condemned to be sold”

And said “now On all future occupancy  there is an eternal hold.”

Then, violently , from room to room he turned every chair and table.

With the glance of His eyes everything was destroyed and  disabled.

Sparks burned pages to ashes of  estimates and of debt

as Before His face every thing cracked even I , who wept

Finally smoke billowed from chimney as His eyes met debris

And now the house is empty and the single smoldering ember is me

Yet solid is a  large leather book  like a fire log beneath my feet

Written is an appraisal set in wood as payment for this suite.

So, sirs, I know you all mean well ,to offer insurance for my broken home

but I found His assurance is free without judgement or punitive loan

So do not worry  if  neighbors say smoke comes from where I dwell

It s just  the fire in His eyes that keeps houses like mine from a fiery Hell.

Sincerely,

a tenant

“Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame.”

‭‭Song of Solomon‬ ‭8:6‬ ‭KJV‬‬

 “His head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow; and his eyes were as a flame of fire;”

‭‭Revelation‬ ‭1:14‬ ‭KJV‬‬