Burnt Offerings

photo: Cindy Aquino

Burnt offerings
Second verses
Looking back on things
The way I used to be
Like match sticks in a breeze
Living so free
I never knew the causes
Haunting me
Would end up this way
In a portrait I see
More than a reflection
A second chance to be
An image of the Father.


As I look out the window of my den this morning, I see brilliant sunlight reflected off the surface of what has become a foot or two of snow. The hazy blue sky stretches to the east and crystal clear to the west for miles. It is only the end of January here in the Northwest corner of Ohio, but it feels like we have had a whole winter’s worth of snow already. Finally, a quiet moment of reflection as our dog Buddy lays curled up on the love seat sound asleep. I sometimes wonder what he dreams of as he frequently opens his eyes just a bit as if to check on me; making sure I am still near by I suppose.

If you are wondering where the poem above came from; well, I’ll tell you. I have wanted for a long time to put together a collection of devotional poems and pictures to illustrate their meaning. Like the little booklets I get in the mail every now and then from Silesian Missions, I have come to appreciate the inspiration of words and how they can encourage, comfort and relate to our every day lives. Whether the theme is about coping with grief, celebrating a season, or about the ordinary occurrences in life that cause us to think; like the site of a newborn child, or the first green emergence of tulips in a flower garden.

It is my dream to touch the soul of people and to let them know that life is about more than the struggles or fast paced race to compete for a place in the food chain. Burnt Offerings came to me through a photograph that started out as a project my sister Cindy had done for her photo shop class. From the moment I first saw the grouping of images in the photo, I knew there was something I could write about it. And what could that be, you ask? Well, the image of a match stick crucifix first caused a stir in me about how we can all make amends for all the times in our lives when we were younger and so care free that it didn’t matter what we did to harm ourselves or others.

I thought of all the times when I abused alcohol or experimented with substances that could have led to my going to jail or ending up in a hospital or even dead. Afterwards, it seemed like all it took was to sleep off the hang over and bury the guilt somewhere deep inside myself. As I got older, the guilt became too much of a burden because I had never forgiven myself or allowed God to forgive me for having jeopardized my body and soul. I had never fully appreciated the fact that there was good in me and that I was placed here on earth to serve rather than waste the precious little time I had. A human lifetime is but a mere flicker on the horizon of planet earth and I had to take responsibility for my own actions if there was to be any real meaning in my life.

And so I construct my own cross of burnt offerings. Like the match sticks that represent the frailty and care free attitude I once carried around in my younger days, I offer them as a testimony of the second chances we so often get in life to do the right thing. Like the mother who rejects her unborn child and later regrets it out of personal guilt, let these burnt offerings begin the process of healing once again. For all those times we have done wrong to ourselves or others, let the cross we bear become a symbol of salvation Amen.

A Lion in the Crowd

You could not see him
lying as if in tall grass,
waiting for a meal to wonder by,
for he kept silent,
grooming his great mane
with a pink enormous tongue;
baring teeth as sharp as spear points;
A lion in the crowd.

He made only a low and rumbling sound
as if to say, “never mind me,
though if close you come I shall pounce.”
And understanding this decree,
all the other beasts
of the jungle stayed clear
not to tempt him,
The lion in the crowd.

One day a little boy did venture
out among the wilds away from town;
Not realizing who might be waiting,
and came upon the sleeping king
so humbled among the tall dry grass.
But cunning as he was,
The beast made no attempt,
To fell the boy he found.

For there was something wrong that day
to subdue the pangs of hunger
inside the belly of the beast lying so still.
It was a thorn deep embedded
within the mighty paw
of the king so proud,
but you would not hear him holler loud
The lion in the crowd.

The little boy sensed his anguish
and pulled back the weeds so tall,
exposing a timid hulk in quiet tears
licking his wound of silent years.
“What can I do to ease your fears,
oh great king among the fields?”
said the boy in his still small voice,
to the lion in the crowd.

“Remove this thorn and you shall go
unharmed among the valley of my throne,”
said the great beast in all his pain.
So the little boy reached in
to where the mighty king lay,
and with his tiny fingers
plucked the thorn from
the lions aching limb.

Overjoyed at what he could not do,
and no longer suffering in pain
the lion agreed to let the boy pass unharmed;
just as he had promised.
And from that day on
there was no fear in him
or doubt in that small child;
for he had helped the lion in the crowd.

And so take heed and listen,
my son who trembles and pouts.
Remember the lesson of the story.
Where unseen perils lie amongst the tall dry grass,
there is per chance an opportunity to face and conquer,
even the fiercest of beasts you may have found,
lurking before your path;
even a lion in the crowd.

You may ask yourself what the point of the story was, or that it was perhaps stolen from an old children's fable; and you would be responding like any other reader who happened by. I, for one, have modified the story to fit within the confines of my own life story. The lion, like my father, has always been a quiet sullen figure who often falls asleep in his recliner and grumbles as the kids come running through the house when we come for a visit.

When I was a kid, it was the neighborhood joke that when Dad yelled, you had better run and hide or he might just kick you through a wall. But what I found over the years was that my Dad had a huge soft spot whenever one of us kids got hurt and he couldn't do anything to make us feel better. And when he had his bypass a few years ago, we all got to see just how sentimental and gentle he could be. Thus, the lion in the crowd becomes the one who needs tending, and the boy becomes the source of healing. I can only hope that in some small way I can be of some comfort to my Dad who worked so hard for me so that I could be the person I am today.

Off the Highway, Onto the Path

As I sit here this morning considering the challenges and opportunities of the day, I can’t help apologizing for the lost words from the past couple of days. My well intentioned resolution to put down at least five hundred words a day went sadly by the highway and onto the stray path. Remembering what the writer said, “You can never go home again,” resonates in my mind as the words fade from the pages of Wendell Berry’s Recollected Essays: 1965-1980. Now, I find myself lost in the back country of Kentucky in the year 1797 where the writings of a Methodist minister have drawn me into the land lost to civilization and progress. “They knew but little…” (Rev. Jacob Young) And so I add this from my own understanding; “For theirs and other men’s conveyance they sought to the destruction of the land in the name of progress.”

There is something tragic about losing time, yet realizing how life flows on like a river offers some consolation in knowing it is near impossible to fill every moment with meaning. Sometimes it is just better to be out and about rather than focusing on perspective and sentiment. This is where I find myself at odds this morning. The fog outside on the north end of town and the sleepy eyes of boys will soon take me away from this space, so I carry on in earnest. Capturing the true essence of the moment may have to wait for later as I save this last morsel of inspiration…

In keeping with the train of thought from yesterday, I hate to borrow yet another passage, but I feel a kinship with Wendell Berry that cannot be overlooked.

And I say to myself: here is your road
without beginning or end, appearing out of the earth and ending in it, bearing
no load but the hawk’s kill, and the leaves
building earth on it, something more
to be borne. Tracks fill with earth
and return to absence. The road was worn
by men bearing earth along it. They have come
to endlessness. In their passing
they could not stay in, trees have risen
and stand still. It is leading to the dark,
to mornings where you are not. Here
is your road, beginningless and endless as God.

-Wendell Berry-

Now, from my own recollections, I add these revisions of sentiment from the path of years gone by.





River Cathedral

Trickling water
Greenish brown stream
Fallen timbers
Along a sloping scheme.

Canopy of spring
Enshrouds the scene
Bird song calls
Off earthen walls;
River cathedral.

Silence speaks
My soul peaks
While mosquitoes swarm
In spiritual form;
Innocence that sleeps.

Visitors weep
While orphans dream
beside the river so serene
A prayerful intention
Left in stone,
But never alone;
These guardian angels.

-D.A. Wittler 2007-


Yuletide Legacy


On a cold December night
As the stars shine bright
Windowed faces of log houses
Flicker in candle light.

Warm quaint spaces
Crackling fire places
Kettles cooling beside once busy hearths
Shadowed now in evening shade.

In a time long forgot
People settle in their cots
While snow drifts gather
Ever higher along a man-made river.

Paths between cleared fields
Scarred by wagon wheel trenches
Now covered in utter white perfection
Stretch a lonely mile in starlight.

Forest branches creaking restless
Weight of ice and arctic breezes
Bring dormant trees to life
In clues of seasons past.

Doe and yearling forage
For a meal made scarce
Steaming breath releasing
A drink of water from a thin veiled stream.

Everywhere, darkness lingers
Stilled by a shining celestial body
Gleaming high above in an eastern sky
While immigrant farmers dream a yuletide scene.

A story told since youth
Son of God born a humble birth
In a land of palm fronds and sand
A king of heaven on earth.

Simple men tending their flocks
Wise men stirring from their dreams
Flee to a simple manger in Bethlehem
To see a Savior who would be king.

Now, looking back upon tradition
Christians telling in succession
This same story passing generations
As our founding is self evident
Remains for us a destiny
An American yuletide legacy.

-D.A. Wittler- revised 12/08

A Question of Ownership

For most of us it is difficult to share our personal struggles with another person. Somehow, we must believe that what is our business is ours alone by virtue of ownership. It is our life so it is our own personal property. Nobody wants to place his or her property in jeopardy at the hands of another, especially if the other is a stranger to us. There are enough crooks and thieves in the world who would take away what is ours for their own means.

I speak of personal issues as if they held some monetary value such as gold or silver, but if you think about it, our personal space does have value to us or there would be no laws governing personal privacy or rights. My argument, however, is this; that even though we possess such things as property, our lives are not our own to do with as we please. We do have the freedom to choose where and when we go or what endeavors we wish to participate in, but we do not have the authority to endanger our lives for the sake of our perceived notions of self ownership. Likewise, we do not have the right to choose for another whether or not their life should be endangered.

So many times in my own struggles in life, I have fell victim to the ravages of depression or what used to be diagnosed as melancholia. If you have ever experienced these feelings of utter despair or shear lack of self worth, then you can empathize with me about the thought processes that go through your mind at the lowest moments of depression. There has even been in recent years an explosion of therapies and drugs to treat this acknowledged medical malady so what I am referring to is no myth to society as a whole. The affects of this disease have claimed more than a few lives because those suffering from it have chosen to end their lives rather than endure the symptoms of what is wrong or broken in their lives.

Just as there are millions of women, who for one reason or another become pregnant as a result of some activity freely chosen or forced upon them, decide to end their pregnancies; it becomes an issue of ownership whether or not they have the right to end the life of their unborn child. Again, I stress the idea that property rights and personal rights diverge as it applies to ownership. God puts us here on this earth to love and serve him through our good works, and thus it is in his hands that our lives are placed. He gives us no more to handle than we can endure; we merely have to trust in the love and compassion he gives so freely. It is then He who possesses our lives and determines when it is our time to leave it. I cannot simply believe that we are here by accident and that we are given the right to decide upon matters of life and death as it applies to our own experience. We are here on earth at God’s discretion and we must act in accordance with the example of his son Jesus who taught us the ultimate meaning of love.

A Place in this World

I read this morning from Mark’s gospel about the purpose of a day of rest, also known as Sabbath. As we know from the beginning, or Genesis, the Lord God took in all that he had made in those first few days of creation. He saw that it was good and he rested on the seventh day. Just as God did, his first chosen people saw the importance of following in his footsteps, but they made the Sabbath a matter of law. Over time, the law became the focus of religious practice rather than serving God through others. Punishments were prescribed for any infraction of the law, hence, the reaction to Jesus’ disciples as they plucked the heads of grain as they passed through a field on the sabbath.

I believe we still look upon the law as something we should follow rather than as a way to remind us of the fact that it is a means of establishing justice in the world. In a way it is a shame that we need a system of laws at all outside the Ten Commandments, even though our laws are based on these ten. If we would simply follow the basic principles of, “Love thy neighbor as thyself” and “Love God with all of your heart, mind, soul and strength, there would be no need to complicate things with countless regulation of human behavior.” The original purpose of law becomes cloudy when we rely on lawyers to dispense the Latinized and legalese form that confounds the untrained.

Simply put, the purpose of law was intended to serve us rather than we serve the law. Where there is injustice done to our neighbor, let us bring fairness and resolution of conflict. Where there is injury done out of greed, desperation or evil, let us bandage it and cast out the cause in our midst. As Jesus did, let us place the law where it will do what it was intended to do and go on with our lives. We need not become overly fixated with strict adherence to the law if it means that justice is not served by our actions. Do what is necessary to love one another and serve the needs of those who are hurting, oppressed, starving, naked or homeless. You see, that is what justice is; not a system to serve itself for any other means.

I am convinced that Jesus came to dispel the distortions imposed on his people by a system that became too focused on the “letter of the law” rather than to serve the people for their own well being. Common sense reveals that if a man is hungry, he eats, not that he wait because the law says he must not do work that day. Jesus became the ultimate sacrifice to absolve us of our sins, not that we should continue on the same path and condemn those who infringe on the precepts of law for the sake of law. Our blind adherence is no excuse to abandon compassion and love for one another. That is our place in this world; to love.

For Lesser Things

For lesser things I have devoted time and wasted talent. In my younger days I wondered aimlessly along an uncertain path, only to find nothing suitable to offer up as evidence of my worthiness of God’s grace. But as the years have passed and the hairs upon my head and face turned grey, I found a wisdom not my own. It speaks to me through eyes which strain to read a passage in small print, it settles in bones that on certain cold days creak with annoying regularity. It sinks in deep to warm my heart and soothes my troubled thoughts; it comforts me and eases my cares so that sleep can replenish my mortal flesh. I speak now in testimony of God’s love as a servant of his divinity.

Leave now the desert of your discontent. Seek the way which you have been witness to through the wonders of his creation. Listen to his song in the whispers of the wind through the forest trees. Be comforted in the gentle lapping of the stream as it overflows the earthen walls that contain it every other season of the year. Be glad in the hoof prints and traces of his earthly creatures. Delight in the mourning dove’s serenade at first light and rejoice, for you are of his divine making and privileged to understand as only his image can divulge.

Be of good will and pardon your neighbor. Forgive those who have offended as Christ forgave the repentant sinner. Ask only for the gifts which multiply his love and do not destroy. Pray for those who seek to do you harm. Allow his saving grace to deliver you from all evil. Become the image you were created to be at birth and let light filter in between the dark spaces of your life. Become a new creation and let all you have seen and done pass away as ashes from a distant flame. Acknowledge his presence every day as sunlight at dawn. And most of all, be not afraid, for Christ proclaimed, “I am with you until the end of time.”

Now that you have witnessed my words, know that I offer up a prayer that from this day on you will know his love and live in truth. That no matter the obstacle or worry you encounter along the way, God’s presence remains with and in you just as the diamond lies deep within the fertile soil. Let it shine in your heart so that in the end of time, you will realize the glory of eternal life. Allow its brilliance to spread new roots and produce the fruits that only love can yield upon a once barren landscape. May the stars guide you through the perils of the night and rain down upon you hope for the coming day. In all things, let meaning and strength carry you through life. Let no man or beast become your master as evil tempts the most devote of souls. Amen.

A Walk in the Morning

Today, I embark on a new journey in the wake of scripture. This path follows the man Jesus who became a healer of the sick and a savior of tormented souls. By my own wayward path in life, I find that he has been walking a parallel course in which his helping hand has always been extended. I never realized before how much the journey is about others than just myself, that through others’ trials and tribulations, I have been called to follow in the footsteps of a kind forgiving savior.

Today, in the scriptures we find Jesus as the one who became like us so that he could better understand our experience. He knew that the only way he could be of service was to live life on the same level as the every day person. He did not do it to serve angels, rather, to show us the divine love of his father in heaven. He cares and is empathetic to our struggles, whether they are relational, physical or spiritual. He comes to us by way of the dusty trail through desert plains, through waters rocked by storms and through lush gardens of peace and tranquility. He shows us that all we need is to trust in him and the saving grace of his message on earth.

This morning, as I seek to draw a parallel course to where I am called to be, the words echo in my mind and memory that to serve and be served are but one in the same. So as we serve, we are served. To understand, we are understood and to believe as we are called to believe. That no matter what, our needs are met and our mission is clear; to love and serve the Lord is our path and destination in life. That through others we can realize the love of a father willing to sacrifice his only son so we could have everlasting life.

Now, as I step through the door of my own individual wants, needs and desires, I go with the understanding that no matter what may befall me this day, there is always a loving God who shows the way by example. And so I conclude this meditation with a sense of renewed hope that his hand will be there as long as I am willing to reach out to others as well. Just as a walk in the morning brought a savior to the multitudes of Galilee: so too, I step forward as a servant of the Lord. As the winter wind blows and the approaching storm brings a light falling snow, I too face the challenges of bitter temperatures and a path encumbered with challenges to overcome. May God bless those who are sick with renewed health, restore the lost soul to familiar surroundings and grant the seeker a meaningful gift of everlasting faith. I pray that this knowledge of hope comes to all who walk the path of life. Amen

Immersed in the Word

Jesus rebuked him and said, “Quiet! Come out of him!” The unclean spirit convulsed him and with a loud cry came out of him. (Mark 1: 25-36)

In this scriptural setting I am given a glimpse of what it was like to witness the Son of God exorcising a demon from an ordinary person. When I think about this one event, it makes me wonder how truly powerful Jesus was, yet how fragile he allowed himself to be later on at the end of his public ministry. A perfect example of how we are given the power of choice in our lives and how we can draw upon a higher power when we are too weak to respond effectively to a situation ourselves. Like those annoying impulses that cloud our mind as we try to concentrate on something as important as prayer or like the impulse isle at the grocery store as we check out. It is especially annoying if we are hungry and in a hurry; the urge often times gets the better of us and we buy purely on impulse rather than on what we need. This is what I mean by “immersed in the word.”
A friend recently gave me the idea of using my imagination to use scripture in this way as a means or an alternative to traditional methods of prayer. Because I often struggle with prayer, this method in particular intrigues me as I can utilize the thoughts that come to me freely to overcome the distractions or impulses that interfere with it; especially when I find it difficult to do focus. I am sure many people find themselves in this dilemma. The trick is to make the scripture a part of your own life as if it were happening right here and now, that way it does not fall to the wayside like so many distractions in our daily life tend to do.
If I think hard enough about a particular verse or line or even the context in which it is presented as it relates to my own personal experience, perhaps then I can avoid the pitfalls of distraction or the lack of prayerful intention. Like the gaps in my journal or this blog, I can find a way to fill the empty spaces with fruitful insight and establish a devotion to prayer that is essential to a life of contemplation. Perhaps then I could start to see some progress in my daily thought process and improve my daily prayer.
As the possessed person in the synagogue must have distracted everyone who had come to worship that day, it is not hard to imagine someone stepping in to restore a sense of order and calm that Jesus did at that moment when he commanded the unclean spirit to be gone. I know I would have been astounded to see such a thing occur right in front of me. This is why I find it quite easy to sit down today and put the experience to use as a means of prayer. And so I close today with a final thought and a concluding prayer of my own. Dear Lord, make my day as fruitful as the words that describe your life on earth among us and may the opportunities which come along moment by moment inspire me to keep vigilant in my daily life of contemplation. I thank you for your guidance on this journey and I pray for the continued inspiration in which you give me to help others along the way as well. Amen