Informationen zum Autor Cole Arthur Riley Klappentext "In the summer of 2020, Cole Arthur Riley was desperate for a spirituality she could trust. Amidst ongoing national racial violence, the isolation of the pandemic, and a surge of anti-Black rhetoric in many Christian spaces, she began dreaming of a harbor for a more human, more liberating expression of faith. She went on to create Black Liturgies, a digital project that connects spiritual practice with Black emotion, memory, and the Black body. In this book, she deepens the work of that project, bringing together new prayers, letters, poetry, meditation questions, breath practice, and the writings of Black literary ancestors to offer 43 liturgies that can be practiced individually or as a community. With a poet's touch and a sensitivity that has made her one of the most important spiritual voices at work today, Riley invites readers to reflect on their own experiences of wonder, rest, rage, and repair, while also including liturgies for holidays like Lent, Advent, Juneteenth, and Mother's Day. For those healing from spiritual spaces that were more violent than loving; for those who have escaped the trauma of white Christian nationalism, religious homophobia, and transphobia; for anyone asking what it means to be human in a world of both beauty and terror; Black Liturgies is a work of healing and liberation, and a vision for what might be"-- Leseprobe 1 Dignity When God had made [the human], he made him out of stuff that sung all the time and glittered all over. Then after that some angels got jealous and chopped him into millions of pieces, but still he glittered and hummed. So they beat him down to nothing but sparks but each little spark had a shine and a song. So they covered each one over with mud. And the lonesomeness in the sparks make them hunt for one another. Zora Neale Hurston I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal I cannot be comprehended except by my permission Nikki Giovanni Letter I | To those with heads bowed too long I'm writing this first letter from bed. I lie here on my left side, peeking my right hand from underneath the empty duvet to type. It is not practical, but it is necessary because I'm in pain again and depressed again, and this is all I have to give today. I've waited months to begin, far too many to admit to my editor now. I wanted upright Cole to write this bookupright and at the eighteenth-century oak desk I bought to make me feel big, like a real writer. Instead, I write this book of liturgies under sheets stained from last night's pumpkin curry. Beside me is a nightstand covered in medications, half-drank mugs of tea, and a littering of elaborate skincare I haven't touched in weeks. I don't feel very big today. But just now, the man I try to love creaks the door openslowly, carefully. He perches at the far end of the bed, without speaking, giving me space to adjust to another person in the room. Then he places a bowl of grapes on top of the duvet and nudges it toward me. I pause, stretch out a twitchy arm, and pop one grape into each side of my mouth, and he scoots closer. A hand to my legs, the legs that have only risen to go to the bathroom and back for a week. Closer. Then, If you never write another word again . . . And instead of finishing he just stares at me. Nods. And I know. On his way out, he takes what mugs he can and closes the door behind him. I don't know what dignity is. Not cognitively. But I know what it feels like. To be loved, to receive honor, to be encountered as a human, not because of any demonstration or performance of such, but because, in mystery, your very being is a miracle, your existence a delicate stitch in the cosmos. Dignity will never depend on anyone's belief in it, certainly not your own. It is not born of writing, even excellent writing. Or excellent research or bea...

Autorentext

Cole Arthur Riley

Klappentext

"In the summer of 2020, Cole Arthur Riley was desperate for a spirituality she could trust. Amidst ongoing national racial violence, the isolation of the pandemic, and a surge of anti-Black rhetoric in many Christian spaces, she began dreaming of a harbor for a more human, more liberating expression of faith. She went on to create Black Liturgies, a digital project that connects spiritual practice with Black emotion, memory, and the Black body. In this book, she deepens the work of that project, bringing together new prayers, letters, poetry, meditation questions, breath practice, and the writings of Black literary ancestors to offer 43 liturgies that can be practiced individually or as a community. With a poet's touch and a sensitivity that has made her one of the most important spiritual voices at work today, Riley invites readers to reflect on their own experiences of wonder, rest, rage, and repair, while also including liturgies for holidays like Lent, Advent, Juneteenth, and Mother's Day. For those healing from spiritual spaces that were more violent than loving; for those who have escaped the trauma of white Christian nationalism, religious homophobia, and transphobia; for anyone asking what it means to be human in a world of both beauty and terror; Black Liturgies is a work of healing and liberation, and a vision for what might be"--

Zusammenfassung
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • A collection of prayer, poetry, and spiritual practice centering the Black interior world, from the author of This Here Flesh and creator of Black Liturgies

“A true spiritual balm for our troubled times.”—Michael Eric Dyson, author of What Truth Sounds Like

For years, Cole Arthur Riley was desperate for a spirituality she could trust. Amid ongoing national racial violence, the isolation of the pandemic, and a surge of anti-Black rhetoric in many Christian spaces, she began dreaming of a more human, more liberating expression of faith. She went on to create Black Liturgies, a digital project that connects spiritual practice with Black emotion, Black memory, and the Black body.

In this book, she brings together hundreds of new prayers, along with letters, poems, meditation questions, breath practices, scriptures, and the writings of Black literary ancestors to offer forty-three liturgies that can be practiced individually or as a community. Inviting readers to reflect on their shared experiences of wonder, rest, rage, and repair, and creating rituals for holidays like Lent and Juneteenth, Arthur Riley writes with a poet’s touch and a sensitivity that has made her one of the most important spiritual voices at work today.

For anyone healing from communities that were more violent than loving; for anyone who has escaped the trauma of white Christian nationalism, religious homophobia, or transphobia; for anyone asking what it means to be human in a world of both beauty and terror, Black Liturgies is a work of healing and empowerment, and a vision for what might be.

Leseprobe
1 Dignity

When God had made [the human], he made him out of stuff that sung all the time and glittered all over. Then after that some angels got jealous and chopped him into millions of pieces, but still he glittered and hummed. So they beat him down to nothing but sparks but each little spark had a shine and a song. So they covered each one over with mud. And the lonesomeness in the sparks make them hunt for one another.

—Zora Neale Hurston

I am so perfect so divine so
ethereal so surreal
I cannot be comprehended
except by my permission

—Nikki Giovanni

Letter I | To those with heads bowed too long

I’m writing this first letter from bed. I lie here on my left side, peeking my right hand from underneath the empty duvet to type. It is not practical, but it is necessary because I’m in pain again and depressed again, and this is all I have to give today.…