Merism
A rhetorical device in which a combination of two contrasting parts of the whole refer to the whole.
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This is the third post in a series of reflections about my experience of Pastors, Priests and Guides — a retreat I attended at The Episcopal Church’s General Theological Seminary in New York City this May. Previous reflections can be read / listened to here:
You can find out more about PP&G through their Substack publication:
Frightened. Intrigued. Trying. Profoundly sad. Hopeful. Angry. Broken. Surprisingly present. Hopeless. Curious. Wounded. Awake. Exhausted. Skeptical. Anxious. Unsure. Tired. Joyful. Scared. Willing. Guarded. Cracked. Vulnerable. Walled-up. Embittered. Happy. Shattered. Rejected. Rejecting. Soft. Trusting. Ugly. Delighted. Energized. Depressed. Risking. Open. Furious. Regretful. Honored. Abused. Separate. One. Traumatized. Directionless. Healthy. Diseased. Reacting. Stuck. Lost. Here.1
We are arriving, always. To this. And this. And this.
The annoying, delightful thing about God is so is He. She held my hands in Hers last night — the first time in so long that someone has offered to pray for me and I haven’t become a wall. Or, okay: I took a few bricks out to see and be seen, and hold hands. They invited me to take communion for the first time that I can remember — to remember — and shame was not a prerequisite for approaching the table.
We do not know what we do to one another.
My whitewashed shell in her2 Black embrace, and the next day: the first time I’ve ever heard the word merism.3
We are not binaries, we are both extremes and everything in between, and I am risking showing up as having only ever understood myself as one thing, observing fluidity.
There are alabaster pieces all over the floor, and oil is dripping down God’s face and hair and onto his clothes and pissed-off businessmen and discardable people are incredulous in Simon’s home.4
I’m all of them.
I am the woman breaking open my jar to see if there is anything left to give. I am the scarcity-minded, judging myself for it. I am Jesus, protecting the wounded. I am the leprous and poetry is the place where I hold space for all of it.
Bring me your tired, your weary, your heavy-laden. Sit down. Trade me.
“How are you arriving?” (n.d.). Pastors, Priests and Guides. pastorspriestsandguides.com
Spellers, S. (2021). The Church Cracked Open Disruption, Decline, and New Hope for Beloved Community. Church Publishing. https://churchcrackedopen.com/
Parker, J. F. (2023). Eve Isn't Evil: Feminist Readings of the Bible to Upend Our Assumptions. Baker Academic. https://bakeracademic.com/p/Eve-Isn-t-Evil-Julie-Faith-Parker/516465
Matthew 26:7