Real change . . .

. . . we are all evolving. . .

(from THE SINS OF SCRIPTURE by John Shelby Spong
© 2005 John Shelby Spong)
". . . if change is the tactic to be adopted, the change cannot be simply cosmetic, an adjustment around the edges of our faith story. It has to be so total and so radical that many will think such a change is either impossible or will result in the death of the patient. It would be easier, some say, to start over by building an entirely new religious system than it would be to seek to reform this one so totally that continuity might be strained to the breaking point. . . Our task is not to build tomorrow's church. That is something into which we have to live one day at a time. Our task is rather to face the need for radical change and take the first, probably tiny step necessary to erect a totally new foundation. That step is found, I believe, in acknowledging our evolutionary origins and dispensing with any suggestion that sin, inadequacy and guilt are the definitions into which we are born. This also means that we rid ourselves of the idea that the world was created for the benefit of human beings, or even that the planet earth is somehow different or special in the universe. . . "




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Meteors. . .

. . . that come once a year, quite a show of fireworks when you're there to see them. Shooting stars fantastically glow. All too soon, no one can say where they are or gone to. Back on earth, we average reside. Most of us will never know such adoration. So I go my ordinary way, do my job and feed my kids in this world and wonder. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Why all the fascination?

Fabulous, they'll take your breath away. They will dazzle with their style and their savoire faire. Improvise, they make their own rules. All the cattle follow close behind from the pasture. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Why all the fascination?

Why couldn't I be one among these many millions? Why can't someone see my astrological worth? What causes the sea of heavenly bodies to glow like they do; show off so brightly for me and you? Sooner or later they burn themselves out but oh, so beautifully. Beautifully.

Meteors have nothing to fear. From their distant firmament, they shine for the masses. Safe above, removed from earthly life, from uncertainty that lines the cloth of our mortal existence. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Why all the fascination?


© 2008 Raymond M. Jozwiak



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