Loading Video . . .
Novelist and poet Carey Wallace, explores the idea of friendship with God in response to John 15:15.
John 15:15
The Society of Friends
By
Carey Wallace
Credits:
Curated by:
Spark+Echo Arts
2012
Poetry
Primary Scripture
Loading primary passage...
Loading Passage Reference...
Share This Art:
John 15:15 is the foundational verse of the Society of Friends, better known as the "Quakers", whose social justice and fiery mysticism were rooted in the idea that Jesus didn't consider his followers servants, but friends. I was raised Quaker, and the early training I received to listen for the "still small voice of God" laid the foundation of my creative life, which I also see as a practice of radical listening and obedience.
Spark Notes
The Artist's Reflection
Carey Wallace is the author of The Blind Contessa’s New Machine. She was raised in small towns in Michigan. Carey is the founder of the Working Artists Initiative for the International Arts Movement, which helps emerging artists establish strong creative habits; and The Hillbilly Underground, an annual arts retreat which draws nationally-recognized filmmakers, writers, fine artists, and musicians to rural Michigan each summer. She lives and works in Brooklyn.
Find out more about Carey at www.careywallace.com.
Carey Wallace
About the Artist
Carey Wallace
Other Works By
Related Information
You are my only friend
but I am a worm and not a man
a breath left on a glass
The Society of Friends
by Carey Wallace
You are my only friend
but I am a worm and not a man
a breath left on a glass
mud and spit, a blade of grass
grown from the dust, soon dust again
not even good for a servant.
But at the word you shake your head,
hold out your hand and call me friend
and though you set each star on fire
built every bird, invented night
and drowned death with your own blood
I love this wonder best of all:
that to this pile of bones and dust
only waiting to be burned
you spoke the secrets of the world,
and made a friend of God.
Loading Video . . .
You are my only friend
but I am a worm and not a man
a breath left on a glass