The Smell of an Overburnt Dish

Sermon by Reverend Vince Anderson. For Sunday, July 18th, 2010. From Pete’s Candy Store in Brooklyn, New York.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Right click here to download to desktop.

Study Resources:

Luke 10:38-42

Luke 11:27

“Beyond God The Father” by Mary Daly

“The New Being” by Paul Tillich

The stoning of women in Iran

Female genital mutilation

“The Lady of the House”
Sri S. S.
Prabhakara Rao

Even though the head
revolves
like the pestle,
the pulses of thought
aren’t pulverised.

The nose full
with the smell of asfoetida
passes up
the act of breathing.

The broomsticks of hands
seek out ceaselessly
the expanses of vacant space.
The droplets of waves
nof dreams fall upon
the frying pan of the heart
and burn out noisily.

Under the ruthless rod
the chutney
is crushed relentlessly;
the waist is dashed
against the stone continually
and the tears trickle
from the dark eye;
and yet the dirt of the mind
isn’t washed out.

Like the spindle
in the spinning wheel
the legs are ever
on the move
and yet somehow static
and will stay put
where the pillars stand.

Although getting sanctified
by the stench of soiled clothes
-full of shit all over-
life somehow emits
the smell of
an overburnt dish.

On Separation and Words
- Jalalu’ddin Rumi – 13th century Sufi

Listen to the reeds as they sway apart,
hear them speak of lost friends.
At birth, you were cut from your bed,
crying and grasping in separation.
Everyone listens, knowing your song.
You yearn for others who know your name,
and the words to your lament.
We are all the same, all the same longing to find our way back;
Back to the one, back to the only one.