Filed under: Earth Day, Wendell Berry | Tags: christian spirituality, Christianity, Earth Day, Mysticism, Poetry, Song in a Year of Catastrophe, spiritual formation, spirituality, Wendell Berry
I began to be followed by a voice saying:
“It can’t last. It can’t last.
Harden yourself. Harden yourself.
Be ready. Be ready.”
“Go look under the leaves,”
it said, “for what is living there
is long dead in your tongue.”
And it said, “Put your hands
Into the earth. Live close
To the ground. Learn the darkness.
Gather round you all
The things that you love, name
Their names, prepare
To lose them. It will be
As if all you know were turned
Around within your body.”
And I went and put my hands
Into the ground, and they took root
And grew into a season’s harvest.
I looked behind the veil
Of the leaves, and heard voices
That I knew had been dead
In my tongue years before my birth.
I learned the dark.
And still the voice stayed with me.
Waking in the early mornings,
I could hear it, like a bird
Bemused among the leaves,
A mockingbird idly singing
In the autumn of catastrophe:
“Be ready. Be ready.
Harden yourself. Harden yourself.”
And I hear the sound
Of a great engine pounding
In the air, and a voice asking:
“Change or slavery?
Hardship or slavery?”
And voices answering:
“Slavery! Slavery!”
And I was afraid, loving
What I knew would be lost.
Then the voice following me said:
“You have not yet come close enough.
Come nearer the ground. Learn
From the woodcock in the woods
Whose feathering is a ritual
Of fallen leaves,
And from the nesting quail
Whose speckling her hard to see
In the long grass.
Study the coat of the mole.
For the farmer shall wear
The furrows and greenery
Of his fields, and bear
The long standing of the woods.”
And I asked: “You mean death then?”
“Yes,” the voice said. “Die
into what the earth requires of you.”
I let go all holds then, and sank
Like a hopeless swimmer into the earth,
And at last came fully into the ease
And the joy of that place,
All my lost ones returning.
Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of (New York: Counterpoint) 74.
Filed under: Wendell Berry | Tags: christian spirituality, Christianity, economy, Evangelicalism, Mysticism, Politics, Religion, Some Further Words, spirituality, Wendell Berry
JS favorite Wendell Berry is having some of his poems put on stage! Here’s the story and below is an excerpt from the poem, Some Further Words. Berry’s critique of western progress is staggering. As always, he procures incredible insight with a sort of blunt wisdom that reaches beyond rhetoric and our flimsy presuppositions.
The world is babbled to pieces after
the divorce of things from their names.
Ceaseless preparation for war
is not peace. Health is not procured
by sale of medication, or purity
by the addition of poison. Science
at the bidding of the corporations
is knowledge reduced to merchandise;
it is a whoredom of the mind,
and so is the art that calls this “progress.”
So is the cowardice that calls it “inevitable.”
Written decades ago, the poem is incredibly poignant, mystical, and even prophetic:
When I hear the stock market has fallen,
I say, “Long live gravity! Long live
stupidity, error and greed in the palaces
of fantasy capitalism!” I think
an economy should be based on thrift,
on taking care of things, not on theft,
usury, seduction, waste, and ruin.
My purpose is a language that can make us whole,
Though mortal, ignorant, and small.
The world is whole beyond human knowing.
(Painting by Robert Shetterly)
Filed under: Capitalism, Christianity, Consumerism, Poetry, Politic, Wendell Berry, liberation | Tags: Capitalism, Christianity, Consumerism, liberation, Poetry, spirituality, wealth, Wendell Berry
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap for power,
please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Wendell Berry, Good Poems Selected and Introduced by Garrison Keillor (New York: Penguin Group, 2002) 274.
Filed under: Christianity, Poetry, Wendell Berry, prayers | Tags: Christianity, Faith, Holy Spirit, Mysticism, Religion, spirituality, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry, Wendell Berry
O Thou far off and near, whole and broken,
Who in necessity and bounty wait,
Whose truth is light and dark, mute though spoken,
By Thy wide grace show me Thy narrow gate
Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry (New York: Counterpoint Publishing, 1998), 107.
