Practice Resurrection 

A good friend of mine posted a favorite poem of his on Facebook. It is also a favorite of mine: Wendell Berry’s, Practice Resurrection.

Here, I may have given a wrong impression. While this poem often stands on its own it actually is the ending of a larger piece: Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front.

Practice resurrection. What does that look like? For me it means doing the things that breathe life into duty, bring cheer into disarray, give meaning to my own life, and to another’s. Reaching out to another person, offering hope to those grown hopeless, bringing food to those who hunger. And, sometimes, we are the people in need of an encouraging word.

I celebrate Berry’s work for offering us the term of practice resurrection. It reminds me that, like many worthy efforts in life, we are given the very shareable gift of resurrection.

Enjoy the words:

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.

I hear God in the call to: 

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 live to harvest.