#ruach

[notos-black-widow]

daredevil 2011, issue #30

[slowtumbling]

SONG RELEASE - Dry Bones (Hear the Word)

Artist Notes: Lyrics based on the Valley of the Dry Bones in Ezekiel 37. Music is acoustic guitar-driven, rock-a-billy, country – sung and played in the style of Johnny Cash. Streaming: Streaming distribution through DistroKid in approximately a week. Spotify pre-save at the link below: https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/thebellyhymnsproject/dry-bones-hear-the-word-feat-kmls Lyrics: Dry Bones…

[kzong-ngajato]

[existential-celestial]

Ilya Kaminsky, “Praise,” in Dancing in Odessa

[cordeiroleao]

Escolhas momentâneas, impacto eterno.

@cordeiroleao

[ottosump]

WE ARE SO ARROGANT! We think that as modern man with instant access to the internet to answers backing up our opinion, that any old or ancient thought, reasoning or observation is obsolete and should be instantly discarded as unreliable and irrelevant!

Even as little as 400 years ago, the English language has moved on so much that this smutty pun is lost to the modern audience. Hour (pronounced ow-ur) and whore (pronounced haw) were both pronounced "oar" and so are interchangeable in the lines. To be sure you got the joke, "thereby hangs the tail" was an Elizabethan way of referring to a penis. Now go back and read it again.

The biggest problem with translations of the Bible is once again assuming that a poem is scientific fact, a prophetic word was an actual event or we can calculate events using scripture like a ticking chronometer and try to prove or disprove from OUR standpoint. What we should be doing instead is going to the original script and trying to appreciate it from the perspective it was written in.

"and the spirit of God was hovering over the waters."

I want you to see this in a new way today.

Firstly, Hebrew didn't have abstract words, so spirit means nothing to them. On the other hand, "wind" or "breath" is something they could experience. Elohim was spoken about in an earlier post, so we get "breath of the powerful one". "Hovering", though correct in one sense doesn't convey the flavour of the sentence. The letters used, me'ra'hhe'phet is roughly "much fluttering" and is the word used when a hen flaps her wings to draw hot air into the nest to warm her chicks.

Once you have the ancient viewpoint, you have a vivid picture of this powerful God gently blowing on the waters bringing them to life, like bringing the embers of a fire to life by blowing on them.

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Ezekiel 37’s valley of dry bones has long been near and dear to my queer heart. It was the lectionary reading a couple weeks ago, and Austen Hartke did a live study of it on his YouTube channel, which brought the passage back into the forefront of my mind.

Scripture is presented to many of us as dead dry bones, lifeless pages set in stone — but that belies the breath of God rifling through those pages, and expanding our own lungs... 

In this time of epidemic, when we face a virus that can steal our very breath, i cherish more than ever that unquellable Breath of God. The poem in these images first appeared in my collection of poetry, The Kin-dom in the Rubble. But i’ve revised it here — and added a few extra lines at the end, to remind me that while God’s Breath IS for me and NO ONE can steal it from my lungs — it’s for those who hurt me, too.

In this fearful time, I pray God’s breath will whirl through hospital rooms and grocery stores and the apartments of those holed up all alone, bringing comfort and courage and revitalization — AND that it will also whirl through rich people’s mansions and government buildings, sending their carefully stacked papers flying, tugging at them till they share their resources and make decisions that aid the most vulnerable.

Who in your life is most in need of God’s Breath today? Where do you see God’s Breath at work right now?

________

[Image description: a poem written out on black squares with a rainbow in the background that grows more visible as squares progress. Here’s the poem: “men who claimed to know the Word of God and where it lay took me to stand above a valley of dry bones. they taunted me: here is no life for you! you may as well curl yourself among them, and return to dust. and so i did. the bones murmured beneath me, shifted to make room – they did not pierce my skin as i’d presumed. i took one fragment, then another that seemed not-to-sharp, and held them close to my heart, and listened to their clinking lullaby waiting to die. but i did not. instead a Breath whirled round me and trans- formed those dead dry bones into full flesh and blood – muscle and sinew and skin, and chests that moved atop their resurrected hearts and lungs! i thrilled to see these dead dry bones become a throng of those they claimed did not belong…the Breath that animated all those forms did not pass over me – my flesh grew warm as eerie but invigorating song stripped me down to my bones and built me up again – renewed, trans- formed. i strode up to those men who could not see the breath of God in me and said: you worship piles of dry bones i worship the God of ever-reinvented life! you shoved your book at me and claimed the word it held for me was Condemnation – well, i took that book and read it through and through with God’s breath warming the ink and i found Life for me. and – if you could just embrace it too – for you.” / end id]

[project-sefirot]

The Aftermath | Chapter 3 | Body Discovery

You were shooed away from the storage room hallway by force. As you waited for word from Nefesh and Ruach, Neshama soon joined you.

“It appears a dangerous gas was detected in the air within the storage room.” She crossed her arms, clucking her tongue. “It should be safe for you to enter soon enough.”

Chayah sidled up behind her soon after.

“Ooh, what’s going on, what’s going on?”

“Chayah, go downstairs.” But Neshama didn’t pay him any mind.

“Awww, fiiiine…”

He stormed off, pouting. Soon enough, Nefesh returned, looking dejected.

“It’s… It’s clear now. You’re… not gonna like this.”

Her steps were heavy, and she slowly turned around to lead you back down the hallway towards storage. As you passed by the storage room door, now jammed 90% open, you spied Ruach, sans goggles, arms crossed, looking more tired than ever. He merely shot a glance through the doorway,

Nikki Hera, the Sociologist, and Hideyoshi Ueno, the Computer Technician, were sprawled on the floor, face down. A faint sickly smell hung over the air, meaning beyond the shadow of a doubt - they were dead.

Soon enough, that voice came over the PA system once more.

“Attention please - two bodies have been discovered in the Storage Room. Work will be suspended to allow for an investigation into this matter. After which, we will convene an official meeting to review this incident.”