by Vanessa Sadler

“I had no idea they would be so excited about Christmas decorations,” my husband whispered.

I watched as our six year old pranced through the living room draped in red and silver garland, weaving a trail in and around the boxes in the living room floor. A faux cotton snowball whizzed past my head, the boys engaged in a serious battle. I aimlessly arranged a winter scene on the dining table.

Truth be told, I shared my husband’s amazement. On the other hand, who could blame them for their revelry? It’s been nearly an entire year since life as we all knew it changed drastically. Our constant companions have been one another, our view of the furniture and our neighborhood has shifted only slightly, thanks in large part to the reds and oranges of autumn, a certifiable miracle in the southeast.

However, in the last week or two I sensed the change in seasons. Grayer days, colder mornings. Temperatures will soon drive us indoors for the winter months, and I dread the choruses of “I’m bored” that will soon follow. It grates louder, weighs heavier, because we have been cooped up without our rhythmic ways of engaging community.

Yet here were three joy-filled children, finding laughter and play in the midst of a rainy afternoon. I breathed deep.

“...and a little child shall lead them.” (Isaiah 11:6)

Anyone who’s known me for any length of time understands what a nerd I am when it comes to biblical etymology. So it should come as no surprise that when I was asked to write on the topic of Broken Hallelujah one of the first things I did was remind myself of the meaning of the word hallelujah in the Old Testament.

Hallelujah is actually a two-word Hebrew phrase. Hallel meaning “to boast or rave; a joyous praise in song.”

An aside: the very first time hallel appears in scripture is when a group of Egyptian princes are admiring Abram’s wife, Sarai.

“And when the princes of Pharaoh saw her, they praised her to Pharaoh.” (Genesis 12:15)

Interesting that the first time this word is used it is in reference to a woman, but I digress.

The second word, Yah, is a shortened form of YHWH, the Hebrew name for the Creator.

Here’s where it gets interesting... this word for God is known as the Tetragrammaton. In the Jewish faith, YHWH is “the ineffable name” and is forbidden to be uttered except by the High Priest, and only in the Temple. Since the Temple in Jerusalem no longer exists, this name is never spoken in Jewish rituals.

I find it fascinating that the word hallelujah juxtaposes one of the highest forms of praise, next to the One who’s name shall not be mentioned. What a bind.

Enter Jesus. The literal Word made flesh and bone, from a crying infant to crying out on the cross.

This is where I began to play with what hinders my praise (racism, a groaning creation, apathy), to dance with Jesus through words in the midst of fatigue, and to remember where I place my regenerative hope.

Lips part to praise
My voice caught deep

Unable to sing

My God is worthy of every word

And every utterance that rings

But my breath ca — catches as I grasp at a melody

That br — breaks through the noise of Shouts raised

Fires that rage
Eyes ablaze

Yet you’re ... unfazed.

Head down, hands up
Hands up, don’t shoot!

Even heaven prayed for another route
Jesse’s branch, a tender shoot, reaching up —

up to bear us all the fruit.

An Infant’s cry crashing through the night
night from day to dawn’s first Light.

And there was evening and morning the first day. Who am I to say
That a God who bends down low

Who drinks deep,
deep of my sorrow

Never hoped for a better tomorrow?

Light of the world enfleshed

encased, debased
His face marred by you and you and me.

Life spoken into darkness
takes His place in the symphony of re — re-creation.

And I join with
Yah — Yah — Yahweh.

Vanessa Sadler 11/27/20

Broken Hallelujah

The story begins with a stab to her mama’s heart

She was young, she gave birth and then she had to part

She was a baby - an orphan - a desolate

With no place to call home she was all alone

The injustice continued to flow 

As this little girl was about to walk into a deeper low

Her new home in the midwest

Was extremely broken and far from the best

This little girl grew up in a basement with no one to mirror

She lived most of her days wondering what's next and in fear

Inside and outside her home - nothing seemed right

She had no choice but to grow up fierce and learn how to fight

She tried to use her voice, but was silenced by threat and fear

It was her own beautiful tunes that kept her from tears

The injustice grew louder as she got older

She was confused by this and wanted someone to hold her

Was this how the world worked?

Was this the only way things could be?

How did she end up with this story?

At age 18 she was abandoned again

She was now wounded by too many women and men

The injustices continued to be hammered into her story 

They left open wounds, tender sores and buckets of tears

She wondered if life was going to continue like this for the rest of her years

As she sought to uncover the beauty in her ethnicity 

She saw the enemy seek to steal, kill and destroy everything

The injustice around her brown skin and black hair

Was truly too much for this soul to bear

Why wasn’t there room at the table for me?

I looked different but they didn’t hold space for “we”

The story doesn’t stop there

There was still so much to bear

It was a short time ago when the injustice pounded again

She laid alone in silence with tears flooding her bed

He took advantage of her and left a piece of her dead

She screamed on the inside and was overwhelmed in her head

How could someone get away with this 

I am just tired of shaking my fist

The injustices are more than this story shares

Her body is healing from the load she has beared

Her soul aches and the sting comes and goes

She demands justice from her head to her toes

The multiple attacks and war around her heart

Is proof that there is something powerful that sets her apart

The violations she absorbed since day one overseas

Brings her to beg the Lord for hope, justice and peace

“He saw a girl,

Smiled at her.

She looked at the muchacho.

Dance my way, young man.

You girl, you woman, play with me…”

They began in middle earth,

Love without nesting anywhere,

Looking at gapes, the holes filled in

Faith talk, garden work, toil in the dirt.

Belonging.

I started yelling without thought

Just the feeling of anger bubbling up

And then I had 

sudden rush of guilt.

You are here all the time

What are you getting done?

I am doing nothing 

exploding onto you and

The debris is scattered in our home.

I say our home,

we are together, but lately

The walls feel like they 

enclose the splinters of unexplainable

And unknowable

Smiles without teeth,

Ways we have been together 

Or paths of distance

Crossed between your dirt and mine

mostly apart.

Because you have been

And I have been

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Sunsets and Sunrises,

They came too fast,

Before hope could catch me

Or you

Or the four beauties

The work of life is to find what’s missing,

Address that space,

Find herself

Find myself

Find himself

But, we really haven’t done

What we needed to 

And there are plenty of reasons for dismantled

Practical affairs of love

A strategic particular love of days worn into us

Both of us

Deep chasms

A romantic love affair we were famous for

Played out in Mexican expectations

Heated

Hot

Fired

Embers under skin

Minds

Hearts

Soul ties of 

And underneath flashy painting,

ripped by family

S0-called friends,

Bible-pounding watchers

All those who look at me, not at you

Say come over but don’t show

Is a frayed, 

tattered 

beaten

starved for  

love

I’ve found myself apologizing more,

And you were accepting more

The more you accept 

more I’m sorry

for erecting cement

the large brick barrier

I want to put up a gate to shut you out,

A throbbing hurt you carry

Shuts me down in lack

My arms won’t hold you, 

We don’t fit suddenly

Or make sense

I can’t make it better

I stay away

However, you coax me back into the unknown

My skin

My smile

our raw, bare skin,

Naked bodies.

Unclothed before the mirror of you

Reflecting brown

White

Olive

Stripes

Breasts of burden

Thighs working hard

Back bent forward

Arms ripped by worn-out-do-it-all muscles

Forming broken beauty

It’s Sensual

Sexy

Make love to me

Doesn’t have to be great 

Its rushed when it seems like It should be slow

And slow when I need something more

You move toward me

Connecting me to mirrors of grace

I tell you it’s true.

We are that flaming romance we dream of 

We dream of

We dream of

We dream of

All bruised, 

wrought with flaws

There’s the issue of love, 

life, the after-affair

A heartbeat

longing

The touch

His touch

My touch

The way they comingle

Spare me from your eyes

Pounding headache

Tears and anger

Joy and hate

Pleasure and pain

Am I with you?

Are you with me?

Who ARE we together?

Latino?

German?

White?

Brown?

Mixed up, too?

An encounter in the locked-in-locked-out spaces

You’ve kept your words 

And I’ve stored them for me

Listen to your breath all night long

Grieving weights of words

Beast of burden,

For someone who doesn’t love you

Uses you

Wants you for one thing, but

I’m the one locked away

locked away,

Escapes of whispers meant for me

My back

Just bent and barred from feeling more

I lie still

Match your breath to mine

What’s more is that I want you

I want you to want me,

I want us to want each other

Then I hate the way you yell

Or way I’m sarcastic

sniping and cutting

Jagged edges of our relationship 

Shitty words between us,

Unperfected fighting swords,

Ripping into both of us

“Point those swords out!”

Angels!

Come to us!

Dear, God. We need you!

Pleaded that today

Prayers from me

Your prayers for me

Mine are gasps for help

Gulps of air inhaled for your peace,

Relief from pressure

The gringos standing on your neck,

“Get off!” I scream. 

“Dear God. We need you!”

then, he says to me, “Dear ones made of Earth. Souls close to mine.”

I don’t hope that much, 

I tell the Lord.

I don’t want that much, 

I tell my God.

Then, I remind God, 

I want all of this for me, 

for him, 

my children. 

So much more than cars

Homes

Electronics,

I want you to stand by my side

Stay with me

Hold me in your arms

Rock me

Back and forth

Stay

Please stay

Quedate conmigo

Here we are

You

Me

us.

Exhale out, one-two-three-four-five

Breath in, one-two-three-four-five

Stay,

You and me

Made of earth

Dirt

Two of us

Brown and rich

Soil 

Call to me,

“Come back to me. Come back to me.”

And, I’ll reply, “I’ll stay, baby. I’ll stay.”

by Rebekah Vickery (trauma practitioner, writer, friend)

I love words
I have none
Tell me, 
How do you create without a brush?
I live, do I? 
I’m real, am I?
I’m living in a middle space 
There are words, drinks, business, and laughs 
But also I’m alone 
Do mirror neurons work when my screen is already flipping the sides of our faces?
I look left, but you see me look right 
I hear words but your mouth has already been moving 
I think I see a tear
But maybe, it’s just dust 
Dust on the screen 
I breathe in, 1 2 3 4
So sad, how this act is now tinged with a bit of fear 
Breathe out, 1 2 3 4 
I have no words 
But old songs slip through the edges of my memory and my fingers remember them on the piano keys 
This is the air I breathe 
This is the air breathe 
Your holy presence living in me 
Where is your presence in the time of digital space? 
I have no words 
But sometimes, old verses slip through the edges of my memory and I cry 
We see through a glass dimly
How does Zoom feel so much like an encounter with you? 
This middle space. 
Here and not. 
I have no words, but sometimes 
I do

Posted:  https://www.daniellescastillejo.com/blog/no-words

She sings

“Yo se perder”

She says,

“Ay como me duele”

The rhythm beats to my heart,

Something rings true

My heart is yours

And they hurt, duele

Like a love song

They beat out and back in

I’ve lost love,

My heart is gone.

And you, too

I feel you slipping.

She says,

“no se si pueda volver amar.”

I can’t return to love.

I feel lost,

I know about losing, loss, pain.

Lucky charms

Petals falling

What I have left.

Just mates in rough seas

Separated,

Captain Castillejo

Captain Mexicano

Captain Mexicana

We are going down

She sings,
“Yo se perder”

I know perder.

It’s a mark I wear 

Fits on me, 

fits my culture,

Fits my family.

Just going down

Up and down

Back and forth,

The drum 

Roughly bangs

Will I come up for air?

Respire, mujer

Hombre

Niño

Niña

Hija

hijo

Did someone else come in?

Who enters our sacred space?

Uninvited

They didn’t know you

Or me

Veras nuestro gran amor

So much amor,

Quiero

Te quiero

Nos queremos

Deserts of endless years

A month or more of abiding inside

Witness the time,

Como vuela,

A decade inside of a cage,

My abuela is gone now, too.

She waved at me 

outside of a large white van

I hugged her neck,

She grinned 

and squeezed my hand,

I said, “I’ll see you later, abuela.”

Pero hasta luego

No es verdad

Not now

Not then

Gone.

“Ay, como me duele.”

She sings.

Birds whispering her name to me

I love her name

Angelica

Like I love yours

Luis Alberto

Daniela Suzanne

These days I am home too much

And too long

She won’t be back

Will I be back?

Will you come back?

Volvere

Volvere

Volveras?

Perdi.

Tanto amor.

Abuela took that too, 

part of my heart,

I gave my love,

And then this.

I wish you the best

You didn’t know her

You didn’t know her depth

Of spirit

Of joy

Of untouchable goodness

But its gone

Perdiste como todos

Vovlveras?

Te amo, mi amor

Perdi amor,

Como siempre

Yo se perder.

I see her 

children’s smiles,

Hearty laughs.

School work, 

Baking.

What’s left are scribbles of her life

Written on my heart.

Love letters stuffed in old pockets

I gave you letters

With more than words

Llorar y llorar

“llevas mi Corazon.” She sings.

But, this isn’t just Abuela.

Or her heart

She took my heart, 

like so many.

Gone.

My heart didn’t stop giving love, 

then.

It hurt 

asked to give more.

Te pido mas y mas

Pero donde estas?

Corazon y body y spirit

Quarantining in their homes

Griefs alone can wander

uncontained

The others waved goodbye

No te puedo decir adios

Porque te quiero

Some life I waved goodbye.

He waves at me during the day.

Swimming in seas of cleansing

It’s a new love

He’s outside working,

At home, now.

Well, what we say is home.

It’s not so new anymore,

Pero, I love to think some hope is coming

Do you see me?

Me puedes ver como antes? Como despues del dolor?

Todavia queda nuestro amor?

Yo se que si.

But, really, its substitute for unnamed

Dolor

Of a different species

No chili powder

No tortillas

No frijoles

Quarantined

The sun rises,

The sun sets

The moon rises

The moon sets

I rise

I set

Despierto contigo,

Separados

Y juntos

She sings,

“Ay como me duele. Hay, como me duele.”

Walking up,

Walking down

Marimba tells me sadness carries joy

I don’t want it to be that way

“Tanto amor”

The way of sadness and joy

I want hugs on a neck

Money in the account

Bolsas de esperanza

A blooming flower.

Like she gave me,

Like we were married under

You gave me that kiss

I gave you back a kiss

Besos y besos

Amor Viejo ya Nuevo,

Porfavor,

It is real

Living

And four beautiful creations

But, she sings, “Ay como me duele.”

Rose buds in lonely gardens

Solo tu

Solo tu

Yo se perder

Sabemos perder

Sabemos amar

There is no new love,

But it feels cheating 

pretend

Who stole from us?

Who stole love?

Ladrones, white and everywhere,

I gave you everything,

But maybe something is left

Robaron nuestros pensamientos

Cuerpos

Familias porque solo trabajo

Y ahora no puedo 

The energy to compete 

A world of hate,

Gone

The hate inside, duele

Y se que pierdo

No te vallas, amor,

No te vallas,

Te pido.

Porque,

Y lo que queda duele

Grief,

El dolor

La afliccion

La pesadumbre

El pesar

It’s so heavy,

We don’t translate for you 

The pains of these hands,

Bodies,

Songs,

The cries

Because

She sings, “Ay como me duele.”

Without any doubt I wish you the best,

Her song translates.

I do. I want the best.

For you

Para mi.

Felicidad.

“Como la flor,

Con tanto amor

Me diste tu.”

She sings.

The place Jesus stood before the High Priest…

Do you still remember?

Where are you, dirt, which the soldier stood upon and leaped to strike his face when he refused to answer Caiaphas?

What did you feel?

Pungent soil, where he was blindfolded, mocked and taunted,

Spat upon, stripped naked and scourged.

How did you hold his blood?

Though Jews had an ancient law prohibiting no more than forty lashes…

A Roman soldier held the whip-wielding, unleashed fury from hell.

Did you quake with the horror of this violence on your watch?

Holy dirt, where Jesus spent a sleepless night,

Battered, bruised and dehydrated, did you feel his dripping blood?

Did your cool surface calm his bloody body?

What horrific ground you were under Pontius Pilate and haunted ground of Herod Antipas the Tetrarch.

Back, once more, to Pilate to trade Barabbas for the broken Savior.

Did you quake at the horror, the screams and the cries of the crowds?

Holy muck, did you see him stripped naked and anally violated?

You, the stage, where his hands and feet were pounded with nails four and a half inches long, do you still remember?

Did you anoint yourself with his blood?

Dark Golgotha soil, you received the cross of Jesus crucified.

Were you horrified?

As his body gave way to asphyxiation, shock, sepsis, and a spear daggered into his side and blood poured out;

How did you bear this scene? This witness of death, are you still stained today?

And rain-soaked, tear sodden mud, did you hold his mother and friends?

How did you stay when everyone else left? How much blood remains soaked in you? 
Is this why you quaked, dearest earth, at the hallowed death of your Lord?

Holy mire, what did you see when dead Jesus descended into hell?

What was the cost of Jesus taking back every key? Did you see that?

Hallowed earth, I wish you could speak, for you, too, bore a great cost.

Bloodstained, soaked dirt, keep me alive to the ascension.

Help me, blood-stained ground, to hold fast to what you know of his second coming.

Holy earth, keep me waiting with the hope of His bloodied body broken for me.

www.daniellescastillejo.com

Mob of humanity, sharks circling kill

Watching skull hill decorated with torture

I taste dirt in teeth, smell acidity of fear

I could not watch you hang by nails

Without fleeing sweat, dripping red life

Soul would writhe until I chose

To climb up, kiss eyelids

To put hands on wounds

To stop flow of blood

Or I would have run horror

Out through legs, tears in torrent

Legs could not run far enough

To escape love proven by stripes

Lashes too many for hands to cover

Too deep for soul to hold

I am left with grit in mouth

Salt in eyes, tin taste in mouth

As weight of love falls hard 

Pressing worth into every cell

Wrenching shame from fingertips

I come face to face, breathe to breathe,

Forehead to forehead, lip to lip with 

                                       Love.

Day Three

What did resurrection feel like within your skin?

Head pressed hard, three days on rock

Limbs stiff, skin drying taught

Eyes sand paper and rot

Tongue swollen like sea sponge

Corpse empty of energy

Were you pierced with power?

Like wrist pierced with nails?

Where you made new in a moment?

Or did life return leisurely?

Neck twists head

Back and forth 

Working out kinks

Working in redemption

Limbs wake tingling

Blood trickles through veins, arteries,

Capillaries, soft tissue.

Blood ran red, spent your life

Now flows crimson to recreate. 

Eyes blink awake

Saline washes to saturate, cleanse.

Saliva softens concrete tongue

decreasing in size

To increase in power.

Did you break grave clothes

Like Samson broke pillars?

Or unwrap one by one 

Relishing rid of death’s bind?

Did you run from hell-cave

With a child's skip?

Or stroll, enjoying bird-song,

Dew-smell, air new with day?

I long to be present to daily rebirth.

What does resurrection feel like

                                 within MY skin?

www.daniellescastillejo.com

Brown Mother Jesus

Brown Mother Jesus

by Minjoo Bayers

(Korean American woman from South Korea and New York, psychotherapist, theologian, dear friend, advocate, speaker, and author)

Brown Mother Jesus

You washed their feet

Like a mother bathes her baby

You fed your loved ones

Like a good mama or nana

Brown Mother Jesus

You bled and hurt

Like a girl on her period

You bled in public

Wearing shame

Like any woman

in this patriarchal mire

You bled and suffered

Like a mama giving birth

Brown Mother Jesus

We eat your body

And drink your blood

Like babies in the womb

And breastfeeding newborns

Brown Mother Jesus

You hold and cradle

Like a loving first time mama

You bleed with us

You feed us

Brown Mother Jesus

We may never fully grasp the level of humiliation for a Jewish man to be naked and bleeding in public. By starting to see this part of Jesus’ sacrifice as a way that Jesus can relate to girls and women bleeding during menstruation, childbirth, and miscarriages, I started to see how much Jesus was like a mother.

An unborn baby receives nutrition and oxygen from the mother’s blood. After birth, a baby often receives nutrition through their mother’s breasts. Consuming Jesus’ blood and body relate so much to how a mother feeds her baby. Jesus also washed his disciples’ feet and fed people (on multiple occasions). These are all motherly acts. 

Bible verses that inspired the poem:

Jesus washes his disciples’ feet: John 13:1-20 

Jesus feeds people: Matthew 14:13-21, 15:32-39; Mark 6:30-44, 8:1-9; Luke 9:10-17; John 6:1-15

The Last Supper/Communion/Jesus is the Bread of Life: Matthew 26:17–30; Mark 14:12–26; Luke 22:7–39; John 6:25-59

Jesus’ Crucifixion, shame, humiliation: Matthew 27:27-56 (v55-56 a footnote about women*); Mark 15:16-41 (v40,41 a footnote about women*); Luke 23:26-49 (v27-31 interesting verses about Jesus talking to women. V29 almost seems like Jesus is comparing his suffering with giving birth and breastfeeding); John 19:16-30

Bleeding specifically mentioned: John 19:31-37 

*The writers may note women mostly in footnotes, but it seems Jesus honors women and our pain. 

Blog Post:  https://www.daniellescastillejo.com/blog/brown-mother-jesus

i knew i would be

the one, the only one

let us rise, and we blinked

my body broken for you

every room and every seat, ever

place occupied

eyes and hand that

don't look like mine,

my body broken for

the pews with common faces,

and here, my brown hands

tearing white loaves

for you, for you

my body broken,

i consent

one cup

grapes squeezed and pressured

crushed so it can yield,

red like blood

fluid as tears,

come and drink

one loaf

grain from many fields

one cup

grapes from many hills

stand before God if you are able

let us pray

We have ridiculed and rebuked her

red lips and bold hoops

Lord, have mercy

We have discounted her passion as ethnic,

taking her power of conviction

Lord, have mercy

We have refused to invite her to our homes

as she does not look like us

Lord, have mercy

We have condemned her for taking her call

when she should have stayed home with her kids

Lord, have mercy

When she shows up as her full self, we have reminded

her how uncomfortable that makes us.

Lord, have mercy

Christ, have mercy

Lord, have mercy

this is my body broken,

broken for you

bits and pieces

gripped and ripped in two

this is my body

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Danielle Castillejo is a therapist-in-training, attending graduate school at The Seattle School of Theology and Psychology.

Together they have four children, two dogs, a car, and one wild life.