Holy Luck
Eugene H Peterson
āGood luck have thou with thine honourā Psalm 45:4 (BCP)
Copyright
Holy Luck
Copyright Ā© 2012 by Eugene H Peterson
Cover art to the electronic edition copyright Ā© 2012 by Bondfire, LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Electronic edition published 2012 by Bondfire LLC,
Author is represented by Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard St., Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920.
ISBN EPUB edition: 978-0-7953-2360-7
Dedication
For Jan in our 54th year of marriage
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Introduction
I Holy Luck
1 The Lucky Poor
2 The Lucky Sad
3 The Lucky Meek
4 The Lucky Hungry
5 The Lucky Merciful
6 The Lucky Pure
7 The Lucky Peacemakers
8 The Lucky Persecuted
II The Rustling Grass
1 Cradle
2 Dream
3 Tree
4 Present
5 Kiss
6 Pain
7 Dance
8 Star
9 Time
10 Candle
11 Offertory
12 War
13 Choir
14 Greetings
15 Feast
16 Stamp
17 Womb
18 Question
19 Dawn
20 Egypt
21 Message
22 Lights
23 Pregnancy
24 Glory
25 Meditation
26 Homecoming
27 Story
28 Quiet
29 Terror
30 Snow
31 Ancestors
32 Silence
33 Beauty
34 Hospitality
35 Uncle Ernie
36 Altar
37 Yes and Amen and Jesus
38 Green
39 Friends
III Smooth Stones
1 Smooth Stones
2 A Prayer of Blessing for Trygve the New
3 Assateague Island
4 Lazarus in Spring
5 Beware the Dogs
6 Prayer Time
7 Intercessory Prayer
8 Aaronās Beard
9 Lent
10 Hell
11 Ascension
12 Shalom
13 Maranatha
14 Birdwatching
15 Let No Man Put Asunder
16 Ballad to the Fisher King
17 Light on Light
18 Sermons from Figs
19 A Cave of Marriage
20 Resurrection Flower
21 The New Math
22 Stations of the Cross
23 Sabbath Prayers
Introduction
Davidās Psalms were my introduction to poetry. I was thirteen years old and had just purchased with my own money a burgundy, leather-bound King James Bible. It was summer and we had just moved across town to a neighborhood where I had yet to make new friends. Friendless and bored I filled in the empty, unfriended days by reading my new Bible. It wasnāt long before I discovered the Psalms.
The biblical culture in which I grew up was fiercely insistent that every word in the Bible is true just as it appears on the page, literally true, straight from the mouth of God, no questions asked. But in the Psalms that way of reading wasnāt getting me anywhere I wanted to go. I read āā¦thou, O Lord, art a shieldā¦The Lord is my rockā¦.put thou my tears in thy bottleā¦God shall shoot at them with an arrowā¦ā
God is a weapon? God is a rock? God carries a specimen bottle to collect tears? God prowls the earth with bow and arrow to destroy my enemies?
Literal wasnāt working for me. But I was shy about asking questions, fearful that I would be reprimanded for calling the Bible, Godās very words, into question. In the church world I inhabited asking questions was suspect and so I plodded on, quite enjoying the rhythms and images but puzzled how to make literal sense of them. And in the process of plodding, without really noticing what was happening, I quit trying to figure these psalms out and found myself drawn into a world of words in which I was no longer a questioner but a participant, and enjoying the participation.
About half way through the summer I realized that there was a way of using words that was not literal. I was learning more or less on the job the magic of metaphor, although it would be years before I acquired a vocabulary to name what I was experiencing in Davidās poems....