I See America Through the Eyes of Love

Over 30 years ago, Ken Medema created a patriotic song that still sings in me

Here are the lyrics to "I See America Through the Eyes of Love" by Ken Medema, a blind singer/songwriter who grew up at Silver Lake, Michigan. From the time I heard and sang "Moses" in a college choral group to today, I have received inspiration, challenge, comfort, and insight from Medema's songs--frequently created and sung extemporaneously immediately following a speaker's conclusion in a conference or faith and justice gathering.

You can listen to "I See America" at this YouTube link.

Verse 1 

I have seen the white sand beaches

Near the town where I was born

I have seen the springtime forest

Fresh and green

I have walked along the highways

By the fields of standing corn

I have breathed the mountain air

So fresh and clean

And I've been in other places

Where it's hard to breathe the air

And the high rise holocaust

Blocks the morning sun

Where children play in dirty streets

And no one seems to care

America's children

Look what we have done

Refrain

I see America

Through the eyes of love

I long for all her people to be free

And if you see

Put your hand to the job

There is work that must be done

'Til freedom's song is sung from sea to shining sea

Verse 2

I have seen the dauntless pilgrims

Who came from foreign shores

And braved the raging peril of the sea

I have seen them suffer hardship

And risk their lives in war

In order that a people may be free

But I've seen how first Americans were

Driven from their land

And I've seen the slave ships come

From far away

Tyranny is still alive

There is hate on every hand

We must work to end oppression's day

Verse 3

I have seen the untold millions

Whose birthplace freedom made

Who nourished by her dream grew

Strong and tall

I have seen them teach their children

So the dream would never fade

I have seen them stand to answer

Freedom's call

But I've seen how greed and carelessness

Can wipe the dream away

To create a living nightmare in its stead

So rise up children dream again

For it's time for us to say

Though some may scoff

The dreamers are not dead

Pride: in Honor of My Church Friends

I fly the flag and celebrate/protest with Pride in honor of… 

- Every child and youth in our evangelical church youth group who was alienated by the church and rejected by their loved ones for acknowledging they were gay/lesbian. 

 - Todd, frail and sincere, who played the pipe organ with power. I hope to see you again on the other side someday. 

- Dan, for tolerating my ignorance and self-righteousness. 

- David, who as a buoyant teen styled holy women’s hair at church camp, sang like an angel, and could dance friends into a trance. Thanks for reaching out to me in your last months of life. We’ll catch up, I hope. 

- Chris, who befriended me when I transferred to Plainfield High School as a senior. RIP. 

- Emery, who endured decades of “love the sinner, hate the sin” treatment from churched extended family. You rose above in spite of. 

- The youth and adults in the congregations I led before I fully embraced inclusivity. Even then, I hope I offered a space for searching without undue judgment. I repent and ask your forgiveness; I salute your continuing journeys. 

- Fellow students at Olivet Nazarene University who were forced to stay in the closet by intimidation or be subjected to pressure for “conversion” by homophobic church zealots. Belated kudos to all who came out and were kicked out. 

- All who have had to grapple maddeningly with a judging church and god which/who is defied/eclipsed by the Jesus really presented in the Bible. 

Pride, to me, is in honor of all who have struggled just to BE in the face of religious and cultural ignorance. Pride is a celebration of life and love. Pride is a protest against all who would try to suppress or cancel the rights and hopes of our loved ones and neighbors. 

I am an ally. Count on me.

On it Goes

I wrote this poem at the onset of the Iraq War, but it applies to all the wars and conflicts shallowly planned and stupidly justified ever since.

We are told
Coyly cajoled
To anticipate victory

Flags wave
We behave
As if it was meant to be

With every death
Gasping breath
Resolve is supposed to deepen

Till debt is paid
For every grave
We are chided not to weaken

It seems inane
Surely insane
To follow this logic through

We buy the lie
Exchange right
For a tough man’s stunted view

On battlefields
Clarity yields
To prior and distant choices

Ill-conceived
Blindly-believed
Ignoring wiser voices

Quagmire ensues
Still we choose
To pursue paths of violence

On it goes
Till who knows
So long as most keep silence. 

Who Makes These Decisions?

We do, or don't, depending on our care and persistent engagement as citizens

Protestors demonstrate in opposition to a
proposed data center on Sherman Drive on
Oct. 13, 2025, in the Martindale Brightwood
neighborhood of Indianapolis. 
Credit: Lee Klafczynski for Mirror Indy

I wrote this Dr. Seuss-ish poem in 1998 in light of my work in regional land use and transit planning. The dynamics of local decision-making fascinate me.

I revisited the poem this week in light of the recent pathetic decision process in which the City of Indianapolis granted permission for a data center to be located in the Martindale Brightwood neighborhood over the persistent and raised voices of local residents.

Who makes these decisions
     About where traffic lights go,
Where highways are built,
     How fast or how slow?

Who makes these decisions
     About size, width, and scale,
About where parks can be planted,
     Where county jails?

Who makes these decisions

     About developing land;

How much shall we grow?

     Which trees shall stand?

Who makes these decisions

     That give shape to a town,

That set habitation,

     That move us around?

Others make these decisions

     When we don’t get involved,

When we choose not to care,

     When we have no resolve.

Others make these decisions--

     They speak in our names,

They assume our places,

     It’s part of the game.

Others make these decisions

     Representatively.

But do they represent or

     Count on passivity?

Who makes these decisions

     Is up to you and me;

If we care not about them,

     Do we care to be free?

We make these decisions;

     These decisions are ours.

Unless we concede them,

     These are within our power.

Palm Sunday and Non-Violent Living

 A weaponless, army-less liberator rides into the violent polis on a colt. Is he crazy?

WATCH CLOSELY NOW. It is not likely you have ever before heard this take on Palm Sunday. Here it is: in theological and anthropological terms, I imagine Palm Sunday to be as much about ushering in nonviolence as anything. 

NAIVE SOCIAL MOMENT? Palm Sunday is at once an outwardly naïve social moment and at the same time an inwardly authentic signal of a new way of living and leading.  It is not that Jesus has not thoroughly exemplified nonviolence before now. It is that he is now allowing himself to be publicly declared Messiah in the heart of the polis and the stakes are ever so much higher. Watch him ever so closely now. Strain to observe as he faces his foes and darkest hours having completely renounced violence inside and out.

SIGNAL AND CONFIRMATION. His disarming and symbolic procession into the city on a colt amid shouts of "Hosanna!" isn't just a stunt. Renunciation of violence is heard in Jesus' voice and seen in his actions throughout his last week. The profound shift Palm Sunday signals is confirmed in what we call Holy Week. The nonviolent way of living and leadership Jesus has taught in the towns and rural areas is manifested in the city center and in the crucible of power. Even Jesus' effort to drive religious profiteers (mere pawns of a corrupt system) out of the temple should be taken as a near comical expression of the futility of violence. What does it accomplish? 

STRENGTH TO LOVE. But never mistake nonviolence for weakness. Jesus is not at all powerless as he enters Jerusalem. It becomes clear as the week advances, even as the cross is planted and the tomb is sealed, that Jesus is the controlling enigma. His chosen response to intimidation, pressure, accusations, betrayal, desertion, condemnation, suffering, violence, and even death is a nonviolent nonresistance based on love. It is not about giving in to fate or conceding anything. Instead, it is about exercising power that is nothing more or less than faith and trust in a loving God to bring meaning and life to one's existence, journey and mission.

ON AN EXCEPTIONAL PEDESTAL? When it comes to thinking of nonviolence as a way of life, it is a mistake to set Jesus on a heroic pedestal. It is a mistake to think of his actions as exemplary, exceptional, unique, and unrepeatable. It is a mistake to surmise that Jesus' pattern is not intended for our own lives or social and political behaviors. It is a mistake to sentimentally accept Jesus as personal savior and Lord, but immediately bracket and set aside the very core of his witness and pattern. It is erroneous to think of Jesus' nonviolence as limited to--and intended only for--his redemptive acts on our behalf.  How can it be that we want his forgiveness and laud his sacrificial life, but are not willing to live nonviolently, nonresistantly, lovingly, trustingly, powerfully ourselves?  Is this not, in the martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer's phrase, "cheap grace?"

SAYING ONE THING, LIVING ANOTHER. For all our words, worship, songs, and altruistic actions, when it comes to the most powerful aspects of Jesus' witness, do we imitate Jesus? We say we trust God, but do we make a mockery of faith in God's name before the world? We act as if we are certain the future of the world is best left in our self-defending hands and in our calculating control--better yet, in the hands of self-serving politicians and power brokers who give lip service to Christianity but live and act by the same power sources as did the Pharisees, Herod, and Pilate. And we bless them.

CHOOSE YOUR POWER SOURCES CAREFULLY. In Jesus, particularly in his so-called triumphal entry scenario, we are challenged to continuously renounce our violence every day in every encounter. We are given opportunity to renounce the subtlest uses of threats, intimidation, controlling, fear, and shaming. We are invited to let go of the impulse to be self defensive or to coerce others for the sake of keeping the peace or promoting just causes. Whether the arena is our household or the global stage, the opportunity is the same. We are shown how to live from a different place in our soul when it comes to making decisions, facing violence, and exercising power. It is a place of strength, the strength to love. So, choose your sources of power carefully.

A ROAD LESS TRAVELED. Nonviolence is not easy. Folks try hard to be nonviolent. It takes more energy and determination than going with the flow of violence that defines our culture. It is a road less traveled. It is marching to a different drumbeat. Sometimes we can be quite militant in our vigilant commitment to nonviolence, to the point of taking on a violent spirit. I am convinced that a commitment to and actions for nonviolence are not enough. Renunciation is pointless if not for a surpassing love that transcends violence and endues us with a higher power, a life-giving source.

AN EMBRACED TRANSCENDENT LOVE. Nonviolence apart from an embraced transcendent love remains mere idealism. It is right, but only partly so. Renouncing violence is unsustainable personally and socially in merely humanistic terms. Without a spiritually inward transformation, I am not sure that as a social agenda it will work. It seems to me that nonviolence can only lead to shalom if violence is supplanted by agape love.

LOVE AND VIOLENCE. But why is it that many who claim the name and love of God never renounce violence? Why do we not include personal and institutional violence when we declare, in the great confession, that "we renounce Satan and all his works?" Why do we continue to live in reflection of a violent god? Why is the spirit and example of Jesus on Palm Sunday and Holy Week not incorporated into the pattern and practice of our lives--personally and collectively? This remains an open question for me. It puzzles me. It keeps me looking forward.

Erin go Bragh!

 At Hamilton House, We’re Ready to Celebrate St. Patrick and All Things Irish and Celtic

The bit of Irish in my bloodline and my pre-pandemic solo bicycle ride across the Emerald Isle—along with reading ‘How the Irish Saved Civilization’—have made me fall for the lore and fun of this age-old festival.

It’s hard to tell truth from fiction when it comes to St. Patrick and the revelry in his name. Layer upon layer of myths and attributions have flourished since the slave-turned-missionary walked the land in the 5th century. Padraig’s Christianizing quest in Ireland wiped out much the organic Druid and Celtic spiritually that once defined the land.

Much myth making has been fomented by the church. But Irish Americans, longing for that mystical homeland, have likely done more to exploit St. Patrick than any group. Parades? American. Green beer? American. Public group drunkenness? American.

But, here we are! Our bungalow reflects both kernels of truth and pure hype. And on Saturday I plan to run 3.1 miles/5K in an annual Shamrock Run—likely decked out in St. Patrick’s Day silliness. No, I won’t be drinking green beer! But I might celebrate my first post-heart attack running event with a pint of Guinness.

So, here’s to myth and lore and hype and shenanigans in the name of St. Patrick and for the glory of Ireland! 

Erin go Bragh!

A Reflection on St. Patrick's Prayer

It is time and culture bound, but St. Patrick's Breastplate is worth revisiting

The following prayer is attributed to St. Patrick of Ireland, circa A. D. 377. To me, it is compelling, insightful--and a bit freaky. Christianity is not wizardry or magic. But Patrick's use of imagination to envision God's presence in all nature and surrounding us intrigues me.

I revisit this prayer each year. First, because there is actual historic substance behind the now-mythic figure of Padraig (Gaelic)--a slave turned missionary--and this prayer at least points in that direction. I also revisit it because March is the one time of the year I heartily acknowledge that I am a wee bit of Irish descent: my maternal great grandfather Thomas Garrett came to the US from the Emerald Isle.

A few reflections on Patrick's prayer:

1. This prayer, called St. Patrick's Breastplate, is comprehensive--even exhaustive. It mentions things I do not ordinarily think of--and I'm not sure even matter. Even so, that the prayer reminds me of these aspects of life and spirituality is instructive.

2. St. Patrick's Breastplate offers insight into how much Patrick and early Christian forebears saw nature itself as being in concert with grace. This reflects the Psalms. "All nature sings." It is spiritual imagination. Patrick's sense was that all life is bending toward or expressing Trinity at its very core. 

3. My readings about Ireland and Patrick indicate that Patrick reflected and blended earthy Celtic and Druid spirituality in his thinking, writing and action. So, in this prayer, there's this thing about "summoning." It reflects the sense of spirituality in Patrick's time and place. Patrick was Christianizing people accustomed to summoning spells, witchcraft and wizardry. In this context, Patrick seems to be confronting power with power. 

4. I do not see "summoning" as the manner of prayer or nature of spirituality in the New Testament. Neither Christians nor Christian clergy/leaders are wizards. Christianity is not magic. Prayer is not incantations. Prayer, in a Christian context, is a conversation in a relationship. It is a communion. When it comes to addressing temptations and evil, the prayer Jesus taught his disciples is far more simple and direct: "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

5. Patrick's imagination envisioned Christ's perpetual, enveloping presence throughout one's day. To Patrick, one is completely surrounded, guarded and guided by Christ. Given that, I wonder why Patrick's spirituality did not go so far as to imagine prayer as something just as intimate, simple, and direct.

6. It is likely that this prayer wasn't intended to be prayer at all. It is more in the genre of a pronouncement, a preaching, a teaching tool, a liturgical recitation. We've all likely heard such public prayers or recitations. I observe, only partly in jest, that those who offer public prayers can say some pretty weird and awesome things about God and grace and life when heads are bowed, eyes are closed, and they know people are listening attentively.

Here is St. Patrick's Breastplate:

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through a belief in the Threeness,

Through confession of the Oneness

Of the Creator of creation.

I arise today

Through the strength of Christ's birth and His baptism,

Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,

Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension,

Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today

Through the strength of the love of cherubim,

In obedience of angels,

In service of archangels,

In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,

In the prayers of patriarchs,

In preachings of the apostles,

In faiths of confessors,

In innocence of virgins,

In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today

Through the strength of heaven;

Light of the sun,

Splendor of fire,

Speed of lightning,

Swiftness of the wind,

Depth of the sea,

Stability of the earth,

Firmness of the rock.

I arise today

Through God's strength to pilot me;

God's might to uphold me,

God's wisdom to guide me,

God's eye to look before me,

God's ear to hear me,

God's word to speak for me,

God's hand to guard me,

God's way to lie before me,

God's shield to protect me,

God's hosts to save me

From snares of the devil,

From temptations of vices,

From every one who desires me ill,

Afar and anear,

Alone or in a multitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and evil,

Against every cruel merciless power that opposes my body and soul,

Against incantations of false prophets,

Against black laws of pagandom,

Against false laws of heretics,

Against craft of idolatry,

Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,

Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.

Christ shield me today

Against poison, against burning,

Against drowning, against wounding,

So that reward may come to me in abundance.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,

Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

Christ on my right, Christ on my left,

Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,

Christ in the eye that sees me,

Christ in the ear that hears me.

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through a belief in the Threeness,

Through a confession of the Oneness

Of the Creator of creation.

Amen

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone!