#psalms — Public Fediverse posts on home.social

Slow Mover @[email protected] · 2026-09-14 · 15:11 UTC

This Mined Mind of Mine

This mind of mine
is a mine
mined with mines,

bombs bombing
balmy balms,

static coms,
erratic ROMs,

a spinning sinning din of
fractured psalms.

Soul soloing
solely on wounded soles,

moldy moles
modifying holes,

digging shrews,
rigging news,

a sonic bubonic tonic of
the unamused.

Eye on the I,
I’d hide from I,
why try,

eye, I,
open wide,

what’s inside,
now out,
look about,

shouting shout,
spouting sprouts,

broken limbs,
token Sims,

a brimming skimming hymn of
the grim.

Blinding binds,
blinds behind signs,

warped windows,
skin grows,

transparent parent
gelling jellos,

a churning yearning turning of
buried cellos.

Nerve serving curve
of the mortal swerve,

a word herd stirred,
a buried blurred bird,

sudden flight,
sodden fright,

a scattered battered bat of
the tattered night.

Hands in the sand,
unplanned manned strands
of what once was grand,

keeps collapse,
seeps relapse,

in the laps of
the lambasted land,

vain veins
veined in clay,

waiting gray,
weighty water
washing away,

a dim lit hymn-bit limb of
decay.

Still—

slurping krill,
burping bill,

Be still,
be still,

not my will,
but thine,

new wine,
do dine,

demining
this mined heart of mine,

never mine,
ever kind,

sever the binding line,

and I,
eye,

am no longer
blind.

#BeStill #ContemporaryPoetry #DarkPoetry #deconstruction #experimentalPoetry #Faith #fracturedMind #gothicPoetry #Healing #Identity #innerTurmoil #internalRhyme #mentalLandscape #metaphor #mindAsMinefield #NotMyWillButThine #Poetry #Prayer #Psalms #psychologicalPoetry #rhyme #self #soul #spiritualStruggle #SpokenWord #strangePoetry #StreamOfConsciousness #surrealPoetry #surrealism #surrender #Wordplay

#bestill #contemporarypoetry #darkpoetry #deconstruction #experimentalpoetry #faith

Slow Mover @[email protected] · 2026-08-25 · 07:56 UTC

Why Do You Boast, Great Warrior?

A Peace Reflection on Psalm 52

“Why do you boast about your crimes, great warrior?
Don’t you realize God’s justice continues forever?”
—Psalm 52:1

There is something startlingly contemporary about that question.

Why do you boast, great warrior?

The psalm does not merely condemn violence. It confronts the strange human tendency to celebrate it.

We make monuments to conquerors.
We name weapons after predators.
We decorate generals.
We create highlight reels of explosions.
We speak of “dominance,” “strength,” “shock and awe,” “victory,” and “crushing the enemy.”

And sometimes the destruction itself becomes evidence of greatness.

Look what we can do.

Look how powerful we are.

Look how afraid others are of us.

Psalm 52 interrupts that boasting with an uncomfortable question:

Why?

Why boast about something that destroys what God loves?

Why brag about the ability to kill?

Why measure greatness by the number of enemies defeated rather than the number of enemies reconciled?

Why are nations proud of weapons capable of destroying cities but embarrassed by diplomacy, compromise, mercy, and restraint?

The psalm was written in a world in which rulers demonstrated their greatness through military power. Kings conquered territory, displayed captives, erected monuments, and told stories about their victories.

In many ways, we have not changed very much.

Our monuments are sometimes digital now.

Missile footage.

Drone-camera images.

Maps showing territory captured.

Military parades.

Defense budgets.

Weapons demonstrations.

Politicians promising to be “tough.”

Commentators speaking casually about bombing places most of us will never visit and people we will never meet.

War becomes abstract.

The enemy becomes a category.

And human beings disappear behind words like targets, assets, combatants, collateral damage, and acceptable losses.

Psalm 52 insists that God sees through all of that language.

Behind every map is somebody’s home.

Behind every casualty figure is a name.

Behind every destroyed building was a room where someone ate breakfast, tucked a child into bed, argued with a spouse, celebrated a birthday, prayed, laughed, worried, and dreamed.

This is one of the essential tasks of peacemaking:

to restore the human face to those whom violence has reduced to categories.

Psalm 52 contrasts two different understandings of power.

One is the power of the “great warrior”—the power to threaten, manipulate, deceive, dominate, and destroy.

The other is far quieter:

the steadfast love of God.

The psalmist eventually says:

“But I am like an olive tree, thriving in the house of God.
I will always trust in God’s unfailing love.”

What an extraordinary alternative image.

Not a sword.

Not a fortress.

Not a chariot.

Not an army.

A tree.

A living thing.

Rooted.

Growing.

Providing shade.

Bearing fruit.

An olive tree, of all things—the source of the olive branch that would eventually become one of humanity’s great symbols of peace.

Perhaps there are two ways to imagine greatness.

One asks:

How much power can I accumulate?

The other asks:

How much life can I nurture?

One asks:

How many enemies can I defeat?

The other asks:

How many enemies can become neighbors?

One builds walls.

The other builds tables.

One produces fear.

The other produces trust.

One leaves ruins.

The other plants trees.

And Psalm 52 makes another important claim:

Violence does not get the final word.

“God’s justice continues forever.”

Empires rarely believe this.

Every empire imagines itself permanent.

Every dictator thinks the palace will remain standing.

Every warlord believes fear will preserve power.

Every weapons system promises security.

But history is littered with the ruins of people who once believed they were invincible.

The psalm reminds us that brute force is spectacular but temporary.

Love is quieter and much more stubborn.

A bomb can destroy a house in seconds.

It takes years to build a community.

A bullet can end a life instantly.

It can take generations to heal the hatred that produced it.

Violence is fast.

Peace is patient.

Which may be one reason humanity so often chooses violence.

Violence gives the illusion of immediate results.

Peace requires imagination.

Negotiation.

Listening.

Justice.

Reconciliation.

Repentance.

Forgiveness.

Courage.

And time.

Yet Jesus places himself squarely within this alternative understanding of power.

Blessed are the peacemakers.

Love your enemies.

Pray for those who persecute you.

Put away your sword.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

The first shall be last.

The greatest shall be servant of all.

Again and again, Jesus overturns our normal measurements of strength.

The cross itself becomes Christianity’s ultimate critique of domination.

Rome believed the cross demonstrated imperial power.

Jesus transformed it into a revelation of self-giving love.

The empire said:

This is what we can do to you.

God answered:

And still I will love you.

That is a very different kind of power.

For those of us committed to peace, Psalm 52 therefore asks more than whether we personally commit acts of violence.

It asks what we admire.

What do we cheer?

What language do we tolerate?

What stories do we tell our children?

Who receives our monuments?

Whose courage do we celebrate?

Do we know the names of our generals better than the names of our peacemakers?

Perhaps part of building a culture of peace is learning to boast about different things.

Boast about the person who stopped a fight.

Boast about the diplomat who kept talking when everyone else wanted to walk away.

Boast about the conscientious objector who refused to kill.

Boast about the victim who chose restorative justice over revenge.

Boast about the community that welcomed refugees.

Boast about the activists who stood between opposing groups.

Boast about the teacher who taught children how to resolve conflict.

Boast about the soldier who refused an unlawful order.

Boast about the neighbor who crossed a political, racial, religious, or cultural boundary and made a friend.

Boast about the people planting olive trees in places where others would plant land mines.

Maybe that is one way we begin dismantling the myth of redemptive violence.

We change what we call heroic.

Psalm 52 asks:

“Why do you boast about your crimes, great warrior?”

Perhaps followers of Jesus should answer with another question:

What if greatness is not measured by our ability to destroy an enemy, but by our courage to make peace with one?

The warrior may have the louder story.

The missile may make the larger explosion.

The empire may dominate the headlines.

But somewhere beneath all that noise, God continues planting olive trees.

And God’s justice continues forever.

May we be found among those planting them.

#Anabaptism #biblicalReflection #BlessedAreThePeacemakers #ChristianEthics #ChristianPeacemaking #CultureOfPeace #Devotional #enemyLove #God #GodSJustice #gospelOfPeace #JesusAndPeace #Justice #LoveYourEnemies #mennonite #militarism #mythOfRedemptiveViolence #Nonviolence #OliveBranch #peace #peaceChurch #peaceTheology #PeaceGrooves #Peacemaking #Psalm52 #Psalms #Reconciliation #RestorativeJustice #scriptureReflection #SteadfastLove #Violence #WarAndPeace

#anabaptism #biblicalreflection #blessedarethepeacemakers #christianethics #christianpeacemaking #cultureofpeace

WIST Quotations @[email protected] · 2026-03-31 · 16:53 UTC

A quotation from The Bible

Lord, who may enter your Temple?
   Who may worship on Zion, your sacred hill?
Those who obey God in everything
   and always do what is right,
whose words are true and sincere,
   and who do not slander others.
They do no wrong to their friends
   nor spread rumors about their neighbors.
They despise those whom God rejects,
   but honor those who obey the Lord.
They always do what they promise,
   no matter how much it may cost.
They make loans without charging interest
   and cannot be bribed to testify against the innocent.
Whoever does these things will always be secure.

מִזְמ֗וֹר לְדָ֫וִ֥ד יְ֭הֹוָה מִי־יָג֣וּר בְּאׇהֳלֶ֑ךָ מִֽי־יִ֝שְׁכֹּ֗ן בְּהַ֣ר קׇדְשֶֽׁךָ׃]
הוֹלֵ֣ךְ תָּ֭מִים וּפֹעֵ֥ל צֶ֑דֶק וְדֹבֵ֥ר אֱ֝מֶ֗ת בִּלְבָבֽוֹ׃
לֹֽא־רָגַ֨ל ׀ עַל־לְשֹׁנ֗וֹ לֹא־עָשָׂ֣ה לְרֵעֵ֣הוּ רָעָ֑ה וְ֝חֶרְפָּ֗ה לֹא־נָשָׂ֥א עַל־קְרֹבֽוֹ׃
נִבְזֶ֤ה ׀ בְּֽעֵ֘ינָ֤יו נִמְאָ֗ס וְאֶת־יִרְאֵ֣י יְהֹוָ֣ה יְכַבֵּ֑ד נִשְׁבַּ֥ע לְ֝הָרַ֗ע וְלֹ֣א יָמִֽר׃
[כַּסְפּ֤וֹ ׀ לֹא־נָתַ֣ן בְּנֶשֶׁךְ֮ וְשֹׁ֥חַד עַל־נָקִ֗י לֹ֥א־לָ֫קָ֥ח עֹֽשֵׂה־אֵ֑לֶּה לֹ֖א יִמּ֣וֹט לְעוֹלָֽם׃ {פ}

The Bible (The Old Testament) (14th - 2nd C BC) Judeo-Christian sacred scripture [Tanakh, Hebrew Bible], incl. the Apocrypha (Deuterocanonicals)
Book 19. Psalms 15: 1ff (Ps 15:1-5) [GNT (1992 ed.)]

More about (and translations of) this quote: wist.info/bible-ot/83099/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #thebible #bible #oldtestament #psalms #psalm15 #commandments #goodman #goodperson #paragon #salvation #virtue