Friday, April 03, 2015

For Them

John 8:1-11, Mark 10:17-22, Matthew 27:45-50, John 19:28-30

The two of them stood
At the foot of the cross
Watching the man named Jesus
Die.
The clouds in the sky
Were boiling, like black oil.
The world cried out in protest.
And yet the man hung on the tree,
Nailed to the wood.

She stood, and watched and remembered.
The day was branded into her memory
The day when she had met Jesus.
The “wise ones’ had stolen her from her home,
After they caught her in adultery,
Caught her in her sin.
She had been so ashamed.
Lost.

“My God, my God,
Why have you forsaken me?”

His words from the cross pierced her heart,
And stole her breath.
She had felt forsaken, abandoned.
Then she had stood, head bowed,
In front of this man.
He had searched her,
And knew her.
He had saved her.

Without him, she would have been stoned.
Suffered justice for her sins.
Instead, she had been transformed
By his love.
And had returned home,
New.

He stood, watched and remembered.
He thought again,
As he had so many times,
Of the time he had spoken to the man.
“What must I do to have eternal life?”

“I thirst”

The words of the one dying
Echoed his life.
He had thirsted,
For everything,
And his yearning had never been quenched.
He had always wanted more.
More treasure, more money.
Nothing else had mattered.
Certainly not the request of this man.
Not even the young wife who stood beside him now.
None of it had been important.

Until that day,
When he had walked away,
The words of the savior
Echoing through his mind.
“Then come, follow me.”
When he reached home,
He told his plan to his wife,
And together, they had made a new life.

Without this man on the cross,
He would never have been alive.
He would never had found what he
Had sought everyday of his life.
Treasure beyond imagining,
A gift of grace,
Given to him when he let go.
When he surrendered all.
He had been transformed.
Saved.
Recreated.

“It is finished.”

Their savior died,
And their hearts broke.
And somehow they knew
That it had all been done for them.

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Monday, March 30, 2015

The Lord Needs It

I want to do something this week on the blog that relates to Holy Week, and a week of Holy Week poetry came to mind.  That reminded me of some of the poems I have already written, and I started looking at them.  

So this week will be poetry related to Holy Week - some repeats and perhaps some new.  


Luke 19:28-40

His footsteps were slow
As he walked his final path to Jerusalem.
The disciples had been told,
but the refused to hear.
Was he walking alone?
Isolated in their denial?
Or did he find some comfort
In the nearness of friends?

Closer, just a few miles to go.
How often had he walked this path in his mind?
The journey had been long,
And the end was just beginning.

He sent two friends ahead.
"Go, and as you enter the village,
you will find a young colt,
never ridden,
tied to a post and waiting for you."
As he said it, did he think of the future?
Tied to a post and waiting?
Nailed to a cross, barely breathing?
"Untie it, and bring him here.
If you are asked, say
'The Lord needs it.'"

They did as he said,
And found what he said.
The owners asked what they were doing.
"The Lord needs it."
So they gave it to him.
No questions; no hesitations.
Do we always answer the same?

They laid their cloaks on the back of the animal,
and then his friends lifted Jesus up to ride him.
Friends, lifting up their friend.
Face to face, heart to heart.
Would they remember this moment, later?
When he broke the bread,
or washed their feet?
When they lifted him down,
face to face, heart to quiet heart,
off the cross?

The donkey plodded along,
carrying a king,
stepping, not in the mud,
but on clothing, thrown on the ground.
Gifts.
Jesus entered Jerusalem,
as his forefather Solomon had entered Gihon,
riding his father's donkey.
Was he riding on a donkey,
Provided by his Father?

The crowd shouted praise,
"Blessed is the king
who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!"
As he rode, did he hear the echo
of the angels' praise
on the night that he was born?

As the crowd shouted,
the Pharisees complained.
"Teacher! Make them stop!"
These Pharisees were the ones who should have known.
Who should have recognized the son of the God they loved.
And yet they were blind to the man in front of them.

Jesus told them,
"If these are quiet,
the very stones on this ground
will cry out!"
God is changing the world,
And if you cannot see it,
If you cannot sing His praise,
The void will be filled
By those who will.

The song will not be stopped.
The Lord has need of it.

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