“Blowin’ in the Wind:” Cole Arthur Riley and a Prayer for Place

("Blowin’ in the Wind" is a periodic feature on my blog containing an assortment of nature writings – songs, excerpts, poems, prayers, Bible readings or other things – pieces written by others but that inspire me or give me joy. I trust they’ll do the same for you.)

One of my more recent discoveries is a work by young African-American writer Cole Arthur Riley. I first became acquainted with her initial 2022 book, This Here Flesh: Spirituality, Liberation, and the Stories that Make Us, in some of my racial righteousness work. I found her writing astonishingly and even painfully lovely as she shared poignant essay after essay on her experience as a woman of color, particularly her situation, of course, as a black woman of color. She wrote there on such subjects as dignity, wonder, rage, belonging, fear, lament, place, justice and liberation, among others.

Her early reputation and following, however, was first established in a series of online writings called “Black Liturgies,” which she began in 2020. It is then no surprise that Riley’s second 2024 book came out with that selfsame title, Black Liturgies, subtitled Prayers, Poems and Meditations for Staying Human. Both of these books are New York Times bestsellers. It, too, is deeply moving and tender, an affecting collection of poems, prayers, ‘letters’ and spiritual practices that draw a person into meditation and prayer over some of the same subjects she writes on in her first book; but then the last half of the book presents liturgical and meditative resources on holidays and seasons of the church year. I recommend both of these books highly.

This brings me to the prayer I’d like to share on my blog this month from the book Black Liturgies, Riley’s third chapter entitled Place, and the prayer, “For the Land:”

God of creature and sky,

We have not protected the divine in all of creation. We have forgotten our origins, placing ourselves as superior to the very earth that formed us. Humble us, God; shake us from the belief that we are capable of ruling over the earth when we cannot even care for humanity. Remind us just how young we are in comparison to the cosmos. We are no saviors; make us learners. Make us listen for and heed the quiet things whispered by the soil and sea. Free us from our narcissism as we look on the suffering of other creatures and find our souls at last stirred. And as we become honest about our flagrant degradation of land, may we protect those countries and peoples who have disproportionately suffered the greed of the powerful. May we listen to the Indigenous wisdom in our midst, those who have long warned us that this land does not belong to us – that our ownership of it is our collective delusion. As we look up from the lie, may we find tree and star and dirt, and become the earth’s meekest disciples and fiercest protectors. Amen.

I will let this beautiful prayer speak for itself, and urge you to join with me in praying it.

~~ RGM, January 30, 2025

From My Nature Journal: Walking Softly

(It’s going on ten years since I wrote this. I was on retreat at the Sophia Center of Atchison, Kansas, Sister Terese leading a wonderful workshop on Celtic spirituality. She allowed ample time in our weekend for reflection, personal journaling and creative writing, and the following is what bubbled up during an afternoon recess. And by the way, I’ve shared before something written at that same retreat. Check the index above under Celtic Christianity, or find that piece here.)

Walking Softly

Do I walk so gently upon the earth

That the grass springs back quickly from underfoot?

Do I tread lightly as I pass, knowing that what I leave behind

Must be able to also support the weight and lives of those who follow?

            From whence comes my impulse to leave an imprint, to mark territory,

            to insert a sign of my presence, a blaze or initial on a tree,

            a rock cairn, a footprint?

Do I inflict myself upon my environment,

As if my passing that way is intended to leave permanent impact?

Similarly, do I walk humbly among the sons and daughters of God,

Imparting the presence of Christ, or imparting the presence of me?

            From whence comes my impulse to over-perform, or to outperform,

            To exert uncalled influence, influence that is sometimes

            Neither necessary nor truly helpful?

Gentle and Holy Lord, lead me to walk softly upon your earth and among your people,

Leaving everywhere the fragrance of You. Amen.

~~ RGM, September 27, 2017,

from an earlier entry in

my nature journal

From My Nature Journal: Open Hands

I hold my open hand outstretched toward a tiny bird. It is full of nuts, and I am hopeful the little guy will light on my palm and receive what I have to offer. Sometimes it works. Most often it doesn't. But it is always worth it to try.

Open hands... 

An open hand can symbolize many, many things. Held simply open it can mean, as with the bird, that I have something to give; or if it’s empty and held forward, it can also say, “I have need.” Upheld alone and facing forward it can be a simple acknowledgement of hello or goodbye, formal or informal, enthusiastic or reticent. Upheld with the other hand it can be a figurative or literal sign of resignation or surrender, “I give up,” a show that my hand hides nothing that can threaten the one to whom the signal is made. Angled at my side, palms forward, it is a beckoning gesture, a motion that can mean welcome, come nearer, stand by me. Yet waving forward from the elbows it says go away. Palms down it says, “I’m finished, I’m staying put,” or that things have settled. Held high overhead it symbolizes the desire to be chosen, noticed, “Teacher, pick me!” Held palms up at shoulder height it says I don’t know, I’m confused.

Such variability from a simple open hand gesture, sometimes even contradictory! Hello or goodbye. Come or go. I’m staying or I’m coming. I have need or I have excess. I’m settled or I’m confused. I know or I don’t know. And that’s just gestures using an open hand! It’s a pretty diverse appendage.

I hold an open hand outstretched toward God in prayer, hopeful God's presence will light and receive what I have to offer. What is the meaning of my gesture? Is it an offering? A symbol of resignation or surrender? Of confusion or of being settled? Of openness to receive? A welcome? A beckoning that the Object of my prayer advance, that He come nearer? A desire to be chosen? All of these? Especially in times such as our country and church are experiencing now?

We never thought of our hands

as being empty so much as

caught in the act of receiving…

A friend sent me a poem once about a man who had grown up poor, but somehow still provided for, who had lived a simple and unpretentious life. “We had so little,” he said, “that there was no point in our asking God to protect what was ours. We had life and limb, friends and kin, time for play and work. It was enough.”

The poem ended with these lines: “We prayed with our hands open and turned toward heaven. We never thought of them as being empty so much as caught in the act of receiving.”

It’s a lovely image. And perhaps made especially so since the image is of an open hand and not a clenched one...

Lord, let my open hands before You be ones that have something to offer, to You and to others, in these critical times. And let me never, ever see them as empty, only caught in the act of receiving. Amen.

~~RGM, adapted from an old entry in my nature

journal, after a morning on the beach at Hobe

Sound National Wildlife Refuge near Jupiter, FL

From My Nature Journal: The Immovable Permanence

Waves beat the shore,

Incessant, persistent, constant.

Surf and sound meet their shared demise, journey’s end.

Rank on rank, file on file

They roll, repelled by the immovable permanence.

Rock or sand, mainland or silent strand

Push back, leaving a memory

Of a force now spent, now subdued,

Now impotent and put back in its place.

Its place…

So, my prayers.

They come upon what seems the Immovable Permanence.

Rank on rank, file on file

They roll. Do You hear? Do You listen? Are You altered?

As waves against the shore, 
You tell them they can only advance so far.

But far enough to make impact by their importunity?

Their incessancy? Their persistence? Their constancy?

Yes. The Immovable Permanence? Only one is true. 

Astounding Mutability…

~~RGM, written several years ago at Hobe Sound
National Wildlife Refuge near Jupiter, Florida

From My Nature Journal: Making Room

So I was just thinking… New weather conditions are usually nothing but climatic influences moving into spaces and openings that have been made by other climatic influences moving out, the latter vacating their former place. In other words, a place is made in one location by a departing influence, allowing, no, even attracting another system to fill the space behind it. This is as true with light breezes as it is with major fronts and pressure systems covering half a continent.

Wouldn’t it be just like God to do something similar in the human spirit…

I visited with a young man yesterday who is struggling over a decision, wrestling with a personal discernment process; he was eager for guidance and welcomed my mentorship. But it seemed he had already made up his mind in a way that, to me, seemed premature. I advised him to slow down a bit and be more reflective on the impact this decision might have on those around him, to even welcome other key and trusted persons into his discernment who would be most affected by his ultimate conclusion.

...God, make a space for him to move

only where you have gone before,

where you invite him forward...

As we prayed together, the above weather image came to mind, and I asked God in regard to this decision that this young man might only move into the spaces and openings God had made for him. My young friend being also something of a nature guy, I prayed, “Just as weather systems move into the spaces made for them by prior weather systems moving out, so, God, make a space for him to move only where you have gone before, where you invite him forward. Let him not create havoc by moving where you have not led.”

Of course, Jesus also had something to say about the danger of prematurely vacated spaces. I imagine him speaking with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye, “You may think you’ve cleaned out the junk from your lives and gotten ready for God, but you weren’t hospitable to my Kingdom message, and now all the devils are moving back in! (Matthew 12:45, MSG)” Seems like the spaces left vacantly behind in the human spirit can be filled for good or for naught.

Lord, move for good, please, into the spaces where I have finally taken myself out of Your way. And better yet, allow me ever and always to move only into the places You have opened.

~~RGM, from an earlier journal entry,

adapted for my blog July 30, 2014

QOTM...*: Nouwen on Nature

(*Quote of the Month)

Henri Nouwen

It is impressive to see how prayer opens one’s eyes to nature. Prayer makes a person contemplative and attentive. In place of manipulating, the one who prays stands receptive before the world. He no longer grabs but caresses, he no longer bites but kisses, he no longer examines but admires. To this person, nature can show itself completely renewed. Instead of an obstacle, it becomes a way; instead of an invulnerable shield, it becomes a veil which gives a preview of unknown horizons.

~~ Henri Nouwen                 

It surprised me when I realized I had not yet used a quote of Henri Nouwen for my QOTM. One of my life-long favorite authors, I guess I also realize that I have not very often run across anything by him on the subject, at least not since I began collecting these kinds of quotes. Don’t get me started on my favorite Nouwen books, though, as I probably own more by him than any other single author, even heard him speak a couple times years ago, one of the most intensely focused speakers I have ever heard.

Case in point: at a Covenant pastors’ Midwinter Conference years ago, with probably 7-800 in attendance at that time, he actually asked if the back doors could be locked while he spoke, as the constant late-comings and bathroom-goings typical with a crowd that size were causing him to struggle with focus. I’d never heard THAT from a speaker before, but wow, did he deliver it! Sure made people get there on time the next night!

It is impressive to see

how prayer opens one’s

eyes to nature…

That is an indication of the laser focus the man had, the single-minded attention he gave to things. Attentive is the word he uses in the quote. The contemplative or prayerful Christian is attentive. In fact, active or contemplative, serious Christians are attentive. And those of us who find nature an important spiritual pathway just happen to be attentive to certain natural things that most people are not, especially in our frenetic, western, non-agrarian culture; for us, nature becomes a way, a veil previewing paradise.

Thomas Merton

Interestingly, the quote is actually from a book Nouwen wrote on the work of another famous monk, Thomas Merton, the title of which is Thomas Merton: Contemplative Critic, one I have not read. But Merton was another of those whose natural, spiritual focus was sharp.

How attentive are you as a follower of Christ? And what is your attention focused upon? I am not at all suggesting it has to be the natural world, but where is our focus, and Who is our Focal Point? I think the old 1611 King James English said it this way, “As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.”

That is to say, I guess we are what we give our attention to. Thanks for the reminder, Henri. And peace to his memory.

~~RGM, March 14, 2014

QOTM...*: Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain

(*Quote of the Month)

Every time you feel in God’s creatures something pleasing and attractive, do not let your attention be arrested by them alone, but, passing them by, transfer your thought to God and say: “O my God, if Thy creations are so full of beauty, delight and joy, how infinitely more full of beauty, delight and joy art Thou Thyself, Creator of all!”

~~Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain

In all times since Christianity began there have been ascetics called to a life of prayer. Some established themselves among their neighbors in cities and towns, though many, seeking to remove themselves from certain distractions in order to better concentrate, moved to wilderness places. Many moderns (perhaps especially Protestant moderns!) have considered this an escape from the world’s rigors, but at its basic element it was never an escape away from the world; it was rather an epic journey, a quest, into a spiritual world sorely neglected by the masses, for it was these latter persons for whom these ascetics prayed and gave counsel. Though they have errantly been perceived as ‘abandoning ship,’ these ministers of intercession perceived culture as shipwrecked already, and themselves, rightfully so, as those in lifeboats, rescuing as many as had the wisdom and gave the effort to be saved.

Additionally, an ‘escape’ to the wilderness was hardly that. It is only in the last 150 years or so that people have begun to see the value or beauty of wilderness; for the vast part of civilized history, people have considered wilderness something to be avoided at all costs – a place of constant danger, the habitation of wild beasts, the abode of deprivation. The superstitious even considered it to be the haunt of evil and of malevolent spirits. Persons called to live in these environs would be bereft of even the most modest of human conveniences, not the least of which would be easy access to other humans. But for wilderness ascetics, living here was the cost of doing this kind of battle on behalf of others.

Nicodemus of the HolyMountain was one such ascetic, of the Greek Orthodox Christian tradition.  He lived from 1749 to 1809 in Greece and Turkey, and spent much of his ministry researching, teaching and writing about historic Christian spiritual practices. He was instrumental in the revival of what has been called The Jesus Prayer – “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner” – an ancient prayer based upon the prayer of the tax collector/publican in Luke18:9-14, especially verse 13. Prayer of this form was called Hesychasm, or Hesychastic Prayer. Nicodemus also championed a movement recognizing God as the source of all beauty, that it is the beauty of God’s holiness that allows us, created in God’s image, to appreciate lovely things. This provides the context for my quote of the month, again:

Every time you feel in God’s creatures something pleasing and attractive, do not let your attention be arrested by them alone, but, passing them by, transfer your thought to God and say: “O my God, if Thy creations are so full of beauty, delight and joy, how infinitely more full of beauty, delight and joy art Thou Thyself, Creator of all!”

Praise God, from Whom all beautiful blessings flow!

~~RGM, May 24, 2013

P.S. Next up? Haven’t decided yet – it’ll be either a POTM or an essay from my nature journal…