Los Cazados

Danielle S Rueb, Luis Castillejo, Danielle S. Castillejo

Los Cazados hablamos del racismo, la fé, la humanidad, y los comunidades donde vivimos en Los Estados Unidos.

Episodes

  1. 12/07/2020

    "Broken Hallelujah by Vanessa Sadler" Advent Series

    Broken Hallelujahby Vanessa Sadler “I had no idea they would be so excited about Christmas decorations,” my husband whispered. I watched as our six year old pranced through the living room draped in red and silver garland, weaving a trail in and around the boxes in the living room floor. A faux cotton snowball whizzed past my head, the boys engaged in a serious battle. I aimlessly arranged a winter scene on the dining table. Truth be told, I shared my husband’s amazement. On the other hand, who could blame them for their revelry? It’s been nearly an entire year since life as we all knew it changed drastically. Our constant companions have been one another, our view of the furniture and our neighborhood has shifted only slightly, thanks in large part to the reds and oranges of autumn, a certifiable miracle in the southeast. However, in the last week or two I sensed the change in seasons. Grayer days, colder mornings. Temperatures will soon drive us indoors for the winter months, and I dread the choruses of “I’m bored” that will soon follow. It grates louder, weighs heavier, because we have been cooped up without our rhythmic ways of engaging community. Yet here were three joy-filled children, finding laughter and play in the midst of a rainy afternoon. I breathed deep. “...and a little child shall lead them.” (Isaiah 11:6) Anyone who’s known me for any length of time understands what a nerd I am when it comes to biblical etymology. So it should come as no surprise that when I was asked to write on the topic of Broken Hallelujah one of the first things I did was remind myself of the meaning of the word hallelujah in the Old Testament. Hallelujah is actually a two-word Hebrew phrase. Hallel meaning “to boast or rave; a joyous praise in song.” An aside: the very first time hallel appears in scripture is when a group of Egyptian princes are admiring Abram’s wife, Sarai. “And when the princes of Pharaoh saw her, they praised her to Pharaoh.” (Genesis 12:15) Interesting that the first time this word is used it is in reference to a woman, but I digress. The second word, Yah, is a shortened form of YHWH, the Hebrew name for the Creator. Here’s where it gets interesting... this word for God is known as the Tetragrammaton. In the Jewish faith, YHWH is “the ineffable name” and is forbidden to be uttered except by the High Priest, and only in the Temple. Since the Temple in Jerusalem no longer exists, this name is never spoken in Jewish rituals. I find it fascinating that the word hallelujah juxtaposes one of the highest forms of praise, next to the One who’s name shall not be mentioned. What a bind. Enter Jesus. The literal Word made flesh and bone, from a crying infant to crying out on the cross. This is where I began to play with what hinders my praise (racism, a groaning creation, apathy), to dance with Jesus through words in the midst of fatigue, and to remember where I place my regenerative hope. Lips part to praise My voice caught deep Unable to sing My God is worthy of every word And every utterance that rings But my breath ca — catches as I grasp at a melody That br — breaks through the noise of Shouts raised Fires that rage Eyes ablaze Yet you’re ... unfazed. Head down, hands up Hands up, don’t shoot! Even heaven prayed for another route Jesse’s branch, a tender shoot, reaching up — up to bear us all the fruit. An Infant’s cry crashing through the night night from day to dawn’s first Light. And there was evening and morning the first day. Who am I to say That a God who bends down low Who drinks deep, deep of my sorrow Never hoped for a better tomorrow? Light of the world enfleshed encased, debased His face marred by you and you and me. Life spoken into darkness takes His place in the symphony of re — re-creation. And I join with Yah — Yah — Yahweh. Vanessa Sadler 11/27/20 Broken Hallelujah

    "Broken Hallelujah   by Vanessa Sadler" Advent Series
  2. 05/23/2020

    "The Grief Diaries" Sandhya Oaks presents "Her Story of Injustice"

    Her story screams of injustice The story begins with a stab to her mama’s heart She was young, she gave birth and then she had to part She was a baby - an orphan - a desolate With no place to call home she was all alone The injustice continued to flow  As this little girl was about to walk into a deeper low Her new home in the midwest Was extremely broken and far from the best This little girl grew up in a basement with no one to mirror She lived most of her days wondering what's next and in fear Inside and outside her home - nothing seemed right She had no choice but to grow up fierce and learn how to fight She tried to use her voice, but was silenced by threat and fear It was her own beautiful tunes that kept her from tears The injustice grew louder as she got older She was confused by this and wanted someone to hold her Was this how the world worked? Was this the only way things could be? How did she end up with this story? At age 18 she was abandoned again She was now wounded by too many women and men The injustices continued to be hammered into her story  They left open wounds, tender sores and buckets of tears She wondered if life was going to continue like this for the rest of her years As she sought to uncover the beauty in her ethnicity  She saw the enemy seek to steal, kill and destroy everything The injustice around her brown skin and black hair Was truly too much for this soul to bear Why wasn’t there room at the table for me? I looked different but they didn’t hold space for “we” The story doesn’t stop there There was still so much to bear It was a short time ago when the injustice pounded again She laid alone in silence with tears flooding her bed He took advantage of her and left a piece of her dead She screamed on the inside and was overwhelmed in her head How could someone get away with this  I am just tired of shaking my fist The injustices are more than this story shares Her body is healing from the load she has beared Her soul aches and the sting comes and goes She demands justice from her head to her toes The multiple attacks and war around her heart Is proof that there is something powerful that sets her apart The violations she absorbed since day one overseas Brings her to beg the Lord for hope, justice and peace

    "The Grief Diaries" Sandhya Oaks presents "Her Story of Injustice"
  3. 05/17/2020

    "The Grief Diaries of Marriage" by Luis and Danielle Castillejo

    Grief Diaries of Marriage during Quarantine   “He saw a girl, Smiled at her. She looked at the muchacho. Dance my way, young man. You girl, you woman, play with me…”   They began in middle earth, Love without nesting anywhere, Looking at gapes, the holes filled in Faith talk, garden work, toil in the dirt. Belonging.   I started yelling without thought Just the feeling of anger bubbling up And then I had  sudden rush of guilt. You are here all the time What are you getting done? I am doing nothing  exploding onto you and The debris is scattered in our home.   I say our home, we are together, but lately The walls feel like they  enclose the splinters of unexplainable And unknowable Smiles without teeth, Ways we have been together  Or paths of distance Crossed between your dirt and mine mostly apart.   Because you have been And I have been   Gone. Gone. Gone.   Sunsets and Sunrises, They came too fast, Before hope could catch me Or you Or the four beauties The work of life is to find what’s missing, Address that space, Find herself Find myself Find himself But, we really haven’t done What we needed to  And there are plenty of reasons for dismantled Practical affairs of love A strategic particular love of days worn into us Both of us Deep chasms A romantic love affair we were famous for Played out in Mexican expectations Heated Hot Fired Embers under skin Minds Hearts Soul ties of  And underneath flashy painting, ripped by family S0-called friends, Bible-pounding watchers All those who look at me, not at you Say come over but don’t show Is a frayed,  tattered  beaten starved for   love   I’ve found myself apologizing more, And you were accepting more The more you accept  more I’m sorry for erecting cement the large brick barrier I want to put up a gate to shut you out, A throbbing hurt you carry Shuts me down in lack My arms won’t hold you,  We don’t fit suddenly Or make sense I can’t make it better I stay away However, you coax me back into the unknown My skin My smile our raw, bare skin, Naked bodies.   Unclothed before the mirror of you Reflecting brown White Olive Stripes Breasts of burden Thighs working hard Back bent forward Arms ripped by worn-out-do-it-all muscles Forming broken beauty   It’s Sensual Sexy Make love to me Doesn’t have to be great  Its rushed when it seems like It should be slow And slow when I need something more You move toward me Connecting me to mirrors of grace I tell you it’s true. We are that flaming romance we dream of  We dream of We dream of We dream of All bruised,  wrought with flaws   There’s the issue of love,  life, the after-affair A heartbeat longing The touch His touch My touch The way they comingle Spare me from your eyes Pounding headache Tears and anger Joy and hate Pleasure and pain   Am I with you? Are you with me? Who ARE we together? Latino? German? White? Brown? Mixed up, too?   An encounter in the locked-in-locked-out spaces You’ve kept your words  And I’ve stored them for me Listen to your breath all night long Grieving weights of words Beast of burden, For someone who doesn’t love you Uses you Wants you for one thing, but I’m the one locked away locked away, Escapes of whispers meant for me My back Just bent and barred from feeling more I lie still Match your breath to mine   What’s more is that I want you I want you to want me, I want us to want each other Then I hate the way you yell Or way I’m sarcastic sniping and cutting Jagged edges of our relationship  S****y words between us, Unperfected fighting swords, Ripping into both of us   “Point those swords out!” Angels! Come to us! Dear, God. We need you! Pleaded that today Prayers from me Your prayers for me Mine are gasps for help Gulps of air inhaled for your peace, Relief from pressure The gringos standing on your neck, “Get off!” I scream.  “Dear God. We need you!”   then, he says to me, “Dear ones made of Earth. Souls close to mine.” I don’t hope that much,  I tell the Lord. I don’t want that much,  I tell my God. Then, I remind God,  I want all of this for me,  for him,  my children.  So much more than cars Homes Electronics, I want you to stand by my side Stay with me Hold me in your arms Rock me Back and forth Stay Please stay Quedate conmigo   Here we are You Me us.   Exhale out, one-two-three-four-five Breath in, one-two-three-four-five Stay, You and me Made of earth Dirt Two of us Brown and rich Soil  Call to me, “Come back to me. Come back to me.”   And, I’ll reply, “I’ll stay, baby. I’ll stay.”

    "The Grief Diaries of Marriage" by Luis and Danielle Castillejo
  4. 04/22/2020

    "Como La Flor" tribute to Selena by Luis and Danielle Castillejo

    “Como la flor,” She sings “Yo se perder”   She says, “Ay como me duele” The rhythm beats to my heart, Something rings true My heart is yours And they hurt, duele Like a love song They beat out and back in I’ve lost love, My heart is gone. And you, too I feel you slipping.   She says, “no se si pueda volver amar.” I can’t return to love. I feel lost, I know about losing, loss, pain. Lucky charms Petals falling What I have left. Just mates in rough seas Separated, Captain Castillejo Captain Mexicano Captain Mexicana We are going down   She sings, “Yo se perder”   I know perder.   It’s a mark I wear  Fits on me,  fits my culture, Fits my family. Just going down Up and down Back and forth, The drum  Roughly bangs Will I come up for air? Respire, mujer Hombre Niño Niña Hija hijo   Did someone else come in? Who enters our sacred space? Uninvited They didn’t know you Or me Veras nuestro gran amor So much amor, Quiero Te quiero Nos queremos   Deserts of endless years A month or more of abiding inside Witness the time, Como vuela, A decade inside of a cage, My abuela is gone now, too. She waved at me  outside of a large white van I hugged her neck, She grinned  and squeezed my hand, I said, “I’ll see you later, abuela.” Pero hasta luego No es verdad Not now Not then Gone.   “Ay, como me duele.” She sings. Birds whispering her name to me I love her name Angelica Like I love yours Luis Alberto Daniela Suzanne These days I am home too much And too long She won’t be back Will I be back? Will you come back? Volvere Volvere Volveras? Perdi. Tanto amor.   Abuela took that too,  part of my heart, I gave my love, And then this. I wish you the best You didn’t know her You didn’t know her depth Of spirit Of joy Of untouchable goodness But its gone Perdiste como todos Vovlveras? Te amo, mi amor Perdi amor, Como siempre   Yo se perder.   I see her  children’s smiles, Hearty laughs. School work,  Baking. What’s left are scribbles of her life Written on my heart. Love letters stuffed in old pockets I gave you letters With more than words Llorar y llorar   “llevas mi Corazon.” She sings.   But, this isn’t just Abuela. Or her heart She took my heart,  like so many. Gone. My heart didn’t stop giving love,  then. It hurt  asked to give more. Te pido mas y mas Pero donde estas? Corazon y body y spirit Quarantining in their homes Griefs alone can wander uncontained   The others waved goodbye No te puedo decir adios Porque te quiero   Some life I waved goodbye. He waves at me during the day. Swimming in seas of cleansing It’s a new love He’s outside working, At home, now. Well, what we say is home. It’s not so new anymore, Pero, I love to think some hope is coming Do you see me? Me puedes ver como antes? Como despues del dolor? Todavia queda nuestro amor? Yo se que si.   But, really, its substitute for unnamed Dolor Of a different species No chili powder No tortillas No frijoles Quarantined The sun rises, The sun sets The moon rises The moon sets I rise I set Despierto contigo, Separados Y juntos   She sings, “Ay como me duele. Hay, como me duele.”   Walking up, Walking down Marimba tells me sadness carries joy I don’t want it to be that way “Tanto amor” The way of sadness and joy I want hugs on a neck Money in the account Bolsas de esperanza A blooming flower. Like she gave me, Like we were married under You gave me that kiss I gave you back a kiss Besos y besos Amor Viejo ya Nuevo, Porfavor, It is real Living And four beautiful creations   But, she sings, “Ay como me duele.”   Rose buds in lonely gardens Solo tu Solo tu Yo se perder Sabemos perder Sabemos amar   There is no new love, But it feels cheating  pretend Who stole from us? Who stole love? Ladrones, white and everywhere, I gave you everything, But maybe something is left Robaron nuestros pensamientos Cuerpos Familias porque solo trabajo Y ahora no puedo  The energy to compete  A world of hate, Gone The hate inside, duele Y se que pierdo No te vallas, amor, No te vallas, Te pido.   Porque, Y lo que queda duele Grief, El dolor La afliccion La pesadumbre El pesar It’s so heavy, We don’t translate for you  The pains of these hands, Bodies, Songs, The cries Because   She sings, “Ay como me duele.”   Without any doubt I wish you the best, Her song translates. I do. I want the best. For you Para mi. Felicidad.   “Como la flor, Con tanto amor Me diste tu.” She sings.

    "Como La Flor" tribute to Selena by Luis and Danielle Castillejo
  5. 03/20/2020

    Holy Ground by Becky Allender

    Holy ground, where are you now? The place Jesus stood before the High Priest… Do you still remember?   Where are you, dirt, which the soldier stood upon and leaped to strike his face when he refused to answer Caiaphas?What did you feel?  Pungent soil, where he was blindfolded, mocked and taunted,Spat upon, stripped naked and scourged.How did you hold his blood?  Though Jews had an ancient law prohibiting no more than forty lashes… A Roman soldier held the whip-wielding, unleashed fury from hell. Did you quake with the horror of this violence on your watch?   Holy dirt, where Jesus spent a sleepless night, Battered, bruised and dehydrated, did you feel his dripping blood? Did your cool surface calm his bloody body?   What horrific ground you were under Pontius Pilate and haunted ground of Herod Antipas the Tetrarch. Back, once more, to Pilate to trade Barabbas for the broken Savior. Did you quake at the horror, the screams and the cries of the crowds?   Holy muck, did you see him stripped naked and anally violated? You, the stage, where his hands and feet were pounded with nails four and a half inches long, do you still remember? Did you anoint yourself with his blood?   Dark Golgotha soil, you received the cross of Jesus crucified.Were you horrified?As his body gave way to asphyxiation, shock, sepsis, and a spear daggered into his side and blood poured out;How did you bear this scene? This witness of death, are you still stained today?  And rain-soaked, tear sodden mud, did you hold his mother and friends? How did you stay when everyone else left? How much blood remains soaked in you?  Is this why you quaked, dearest earth, at the hallowed death of your Lord?   Holy mire, what did you see when dead Jesus descended into hell? What was the cost of Jesus taking back every key? Did you see that? Hallowed earth, I wish you could speak, for you, too, bore a great cost.   Bloodstained, soaked dirt, keep me alive to the ascension.Help me, blood-stained ground, to hold fast to what you know of his second coming.Holy earth, keep me waiting with the hope of His bloodied body broken for me.  www.daniellescastillejo.com

    Holy Ground by Becky Allender
  6. 03/20/2020

    Skull Hill by Jill Dyer

    I see in my mind’s unruly eyeMob of humanity, sharks circling killWatching skull hill decorated with tortureI taste dirt in teeth, smell acidity of fearI could not watch you hang by nailsWithout fleeing sweat, dripping red lifeSoul would writhe until I choseTo climb up, kiss eyelidsTo put hands on woundsTo stop flow of bloodOr I would have run horrorOut through legs, tears in torrentLegs could not run far enoughTo escape love proven by stripesLashes too many for hands to coverToo deep for soul to holdI am left with grit in mouthSalt in eyes, tin taste in mouthAs weight of love falls hard Pressing worth into every cellWrenching shame from fingertipsI come face to face, breathe to breathe,Forehead to forehead, lip to lip with                                        Love.  Day ThreeWhat did resurrection feel like within your skin?Head pressed hard, three days on rockLimbs stiff, skin drying taughtEyes sand paper and rotTongue swollen like sea spongeCorpse empty of energyWere you pierced with power?Like wrist pierced with nails?Where you made new in a moment?Or did life return leisurely?Neck twists headBack and forth Working out kinksWorking in redemptionLimbs wake tinglingBlood trickles through veins, arteries,Capillaries, soft tissue.Blood ran red, spent your lifeNow flows crimson to recreate. Eyes blink awakeSaline washes to saturate, cleanse.Saliva softens concrete tonguedecreasing in sizeTo increase in power.Did you break grave clothesLike Samson broke pillars?  Or unwrap one by one Relishing rid of death’s bind?Did you run from hell-caveWith a child's skip?Or stroll, enjoying bird-song,Dew-smell, air new with day?I long to be present to daily rebirth.What does resurrection feel like                                 within MY skin?www.daniellescastillejo.com

    Skull Hill by Jill Dyer
  7. 03/10/2020

    Brown Mother Jesus by Minjoo Bayers

    Minjoo Bayers is a Korean American woman from South Korea and New York. She expects to complete her Masters in Counseling Psychology in June 2020. She is currently a Mental Health Intern at Kentucky Refugee Ministries. Her husband Andrew, daughter Katherine, and English lab Dalgun enjoy walks in the park and food from all over the world.    Brown Mother JesusBrown Mother Jesusby Minjoo Bayers(Korean American woman from South Korea and New York, psychotherapist, theologian, dear friend, advocate, speaker, and author)   Brown Mother Jesus You washed their feet Like a mother bathes her baby You fed your loved ones Like a good mama or nana   Brown Mother Jesus You bled and hurt Like a girl on her period You bled in public Wearing shame Like any woman in this patriarchal mire You bled and suffered Like a mama giving birth   Brown Mother JesusWe eat your bodyAnd drink your bloodLike babies in the wombAnd breastfeeding newborns  Brown Mother JesusYou hold and cradleLike a loving first time mamaYou bleed with usYou feed usBrown Mother Jesus  We may never fully grasp the level of humiliation for a Jewish man to be naked and bleeding in public. By starting to see this part of Jesus’ sacrifice as a way that Jesus can relate to girls and women bleeding during menstruation, childbirth, and miscarriages, I started to see how much Jesus was like a mother. An unborn baby receives nutrition and oxygen from the mother’s blood. After birth, a baby often receives nutrition through their mother’s breasts. Consuming Jesus’ blood and body relate so much to how a mother feeds her baby. Jesus also washed his disciples’ feet and fed people (on multiple occasions). These are all motherly acts.    Bible verses that inspired the poem: Jesus washes his disciples’ feet: John 13:1-20  Jesus feeds people: Matthew 14:13-21, 15:32-39; Mark 6:30-44, 8:1-9; Luke 9:10-17; John 6:1-15 The Last Supper/Communion/Jesus is the Bread of Life: Matthew 26:17–30; Mark 14:12–26; Luke 22:7–39; John 6:25-59 Jesus’ Crucifixion, shame, humiliation: Matthew 27:27-56 (v55-56 a footnote about women*); Mark 15:16-41 (v40,41 a footnote about women*); Luke 23:26-49 (v27-31 interesting verses about Jesus talking to women. V29 almost seems like Jesus is comparing his suffering with giving birth and breastfeeding); John 19:16-30 Bleeding specifically mentioned: John 19:31-37  *The writers may note women mostly in footnotes, but it seems Jesus honors women and our pain.  Blog Post:  https://www.daniellescastillejo.com/blog/brown-mother-jesus

    Brown Mother Jesus by Minjoo Bayers

About

Los Cazados hablamos del racismo, la fé, la humanidad, y los comunidades donde vivimos en Los Estados Unidos.