Denial (Good Friday, Lent 39)

To die for life
— what a laugh!
To accept the kiss of betrayal
— such foolishness!
To save by suffering
— only delusion!

I cannot stand such shame
— there is no glory in this,
No glory in human death
— since Cain, you have known this
Yet we die in every generation
— why would you do the same?
The world needs no more suffering
— ask the turtles, the trees, and all elders.

Of what gain is this loss
— of what use is blood to the ground?
We desperately drink the soaked soil
— yes there, at the foot of the cross,
But if blood could save us, consider:
— how greatly redeemed we would be
By the drenched earth of humanity’s birthplaces
— the Tigris, Euphrates and Nile all know it.
The conquerors would be the most redeemed
— not the most damned, as surely they are.

But notice how hard we try
— still to save ourselves with violence.
If the blood of One would suffice
— it would be finished
Yet we are unsatisfied
— so, God, let us assess:
Any gain from death is unjust.
— Is this how you would be?
Any vulnerability from pain is human.
— Do you stoop so low?
Any anguish from betrayal is naught but heartbreak.
— What kind of holiness is this?

Bury, O God, such foolish heroism.
— Save us not by death.
Condemn the suffering we inflict,
— the sin we violently heap on one another.
Rescue the captive, the refugee, the oppressed.
— Let theirs be the fullness of life.
Take down from the cross the innocent.
— Let blood no more water the earth.
Free the lamb from senseless slaughter.
— Can life no more require this?

Goodbyes (Maundy Thursday, Lent 38)

If You really must go
let me at least say
it’s made a difference
knowing You
walking with You
learning from You,
so thank You for that.
It’s meant the world to me
but more than that —
You’ve changed me
with Your generosity
of time, of humanness,
of loving recognition.
I’ve not always shown it
perfectly (sometimes
not at all) but
because of You
I’ve grown,
because of You
I’m trying to be
more of who I am
without reservation
with unrestrained joy.
I know You know
how I dislike change
but I wouldn’t
turn back time or
return to what was;
where You’ve brought me
is amazing (also hard,
for the record) but
amazing
because of You.
So if You really must go
let me at least say
thank You.

Betrayal (Lent 37)

Not I, Lord.

Surely I wouldn’t betray you.

Not I, Lord.

Surely I wouldn’t betray from my neighbor.

Not I, Lord.

Surely I wouldn’t ignore violence.

Not I, Lord.

Surely I wouldn’t perpetuate hatred.

Not I, Lord.

Surely I wouldn’t mistake an imago dei for a criminal.

Not I, Lord.

Surely I wouldn’t overlook my own complicity.

Not I, Lord.

But yes, so very much I.

on Matthew 26:22

Seeking Jesus (Lent 36)

I am Zacchaeus,
clamoring and climbing
for a better view of you.

Tree

I am Simon Peter,
wading through the water
to be close to you.

water

I am Susanna,
traveling alongside you
to make a way for good news.

20131021_180859

I am Mary,
sitting still with you
to soak in your words.

Lakeside

I am a woman at the well
and a woman at the table,
seeking a drink and a crumb.

communion

Seek me out, Jesus,
even as I search and wait
and long for you.