Mark Five

I came back.
He had called me –
Not my name, for sure
But no one knew that anymore.

Everything in me said
Fall at His feet
And I wanted to do it
Gracefully
He deserved exotic dancers
Should have used perfume
To wash His feet –
This man
Whose garment held power enough to heal
Twelve years’ worth
Of painful
Shameful
Sickness.

I fell at His feet alright
Tripping too far away
Launching myself through the air
To land awkwardly
Face nearly kissing
The dirt all over His feet.

Way to go, woman, I said to myself
Now everyone was staring at me
I had made them all unclean
–Were those stones in their hands?–
But there was nothing else to do
So
Trembling
I spilled my story
In broken words
All the deepest pain of my heart
Stripped naked before
This crowd who had condemned me.

He waited in silence
Till my words dried up
Like the flow of blood
And I lay in the dust
Vulnerable before Him.

He reached down His hand that I had not dared touch
Pulled me to my feet
Looked into my eyes
And spoke me a new name
A new life.
Daughter
Your faith has made you well
Go in peace
And be healed of your disease.

 

How the Word Cuts

I read the story
Of the two prayers offered up –
The haughty Pharisee
And the humble tax collector –
And I thank God that I am
Not like the Pharisee.
Not at all like him. Of course not.
And then there’s the story
Of the prodigal son and the older brother
And I shake my head and roll my eyes
Obviously he was too proud and self-righteous
To get into the Kingdom.
Good thing I’m not like him.

We like to talk about how
He healed the sick and fed the crowds
But not so much about how
He turned over tables in the temple
And cleared it out with a whip
Ate with tax collectors and sinners
Spoke to the philanderous and the adulterous
Accepted gifts from prostitutes
And one of His closest friends
Was a common laborer with anger issues.
If we know all these things
And believe we must be like Him
Then we might have to do more
Than turn off the TV and sigh about
Oppression going on all over the world
Actually talk to our neighbors and people in elevators
Even be radical and give our money and talent
And move across the world to stop human trafficking in Thailand
Or the city of our favorite football team.
We’d have to confess unashamedly
That the King of creation came to ransom
The burger-flipper and the trash collector
The minimum-wage-worker
The IRS agents and illegal immigrants
And those on welfare.
We’d have to confess our own absolute, desperate need
For the bleeding charity.

We forget too much
Far too easily
Far too deliberately
How the good news came first
To the shepherds
And they were no cute kids
In bathrobes with clean fuzzy lambs
They were the dregs of society
Outcasts, thieves, ritually unclean.
It’s easier then for us to ignore
The uneasy fact that He came for
The illiterate and the homeless
The hippies and the druggies
The rebels and the cutters and the goth
The cheaters and roadragers
The gay and fornicators
And such were some of us
But it’s more comfortable
To forget that we should have been damned.

So strip away my arrogance
And shine too bright to deny
The light of the truth of Your word
Let me not go away and forget.
Let Your word be a sword
Living and active
Slicing through all the deceptions of my heart
Leaving only
A quickened heart
That beats in sync with Yours.

[1 Corinthians 6:11; Jonathan Haney's sermon "You Oughta See the Other Guy" on November 14, 2010 about Luke 18:9-14; Pastor Steve Maker's sermon "Outsiders Receive the Message" on December 12, 2010 about Luke 2:8-20; Derek Webb's Love is Not Against the Law and album Stockholm Syndrome; CS Lewis's The Great Divorce]

 

The Curse

In the context of the trial of Jesus, the crowd cried out,
“His blood be on us and on our children!”

We wished for the horrible thing
We spat in the Lover’s face
We campaigned to crucify Him
The One who brought us God’s grace.

We stood in the Roman square
We cried out for the Lover’s blood
We denied Him as our King
And put a murderer in His place.

We lined the road to Golgotha
We laughed as the Lover fell
We mocked as His life spilled out
And ripped apart time and space.

He emptied Himself of glory
He conquered our enemy Death
He could not be held by the guarded tomb
This One with the life-giving breath.

He went to the Father’s hand
He became our great High Priest
He pleads strongly on our behalf
Until we sit at the great marriage feast.

He turned the curse into blessing
He covered us with His blood
He covenants with our children
And He says that it is good.

 

Cost of Healing

Do you want to be healed?
His question was firm
And kind
And serious.

Everyone paused, astonished
Laughed
Gently mocked
Who would not?

But His question was lightning
Splintering light driven
Into every dark crack
Of my shattered soul.

To submit to His hands
Meant letting go
Of so much that had defined me
Falling and trusting Him to catch me.

I had learned how to live
Made resigned peace with darkness
Never expected to se the light
This was all I knew.

To accept His offer
Meant to publicly revoke
My hard-won bid for independence
Acknowledge my insufficiency.

The heart of man
Is arrogant and rebellious
Twisted and dark-loving
An ally of His enemy.

Can a prisoner of war
Become a child of the king?
Is Your love stronger
Than all my darkest fear?

My questions are shadows
Small and weak
But His answer comes unhesitating.
Yes.

And His hand touches me.
The healing feels like killing
The pain of rebirthing
For the joy yet to come.

 

Fall

They lay beneath the morning tree
He made daisy chains of stars
He wove them through her shining hair
As they danced content and free

They ran along the sunshine grass
To the waterfall that sang
She called the dancing light to her
And they didn’t know this was the last
And they didn’t fear the night

They swung from green-decked branches
They watched the mist of green
Dropped fragile seeds in rich brown earth
They rode fast and free by river’s edge
And did not fear what was unseen
Unknowing of tooth and claw
Unknowing of thorn and death

They ate the fruit of the forbidden tree
They hid behind the leaves
They shrank from the one who loved them most
As they slowly turned to dust

They ran along the shadow paths
To realms of nightmare dark
She cried out with coming pain
And they had broken all their realm
And they had traded it in vain

They fled from the lost paradise
They watched the sword aflame
Knew that the way home had been lost
They were covered then with death
And all the paths were closed to them
Unopened for a thousand years
Unopened till the morning star.

 

Cluster of Psychological Redemption

[I don't usually preface my poems, but I wanted to preface this cluster, since I realize that they are somewhat darker and less redemptive than what I typically post on this blog. That being said, I think there is a place for Christians to truly grapple with the darkness and brokenness in the psychological realm in people around them and in themselves. And I think that time is here and now. So this cluster is a movement of what I've been thinking and processing recently. Interestingly... they start pretty super dark and then do, eventually, get around to some kind of redemption and healing. It happens in my writing. Maybe because that's how reality is.]

Signs and Soundbites
Are these the words you want?
They flutter on my fingers
But you are no
Reader of hands
Your eyes bore hard into the walls around my soul
As I’m left tumbling
In this ocean of shadows.

My head echoes with screaming
Soundbites I never meant to store
With no way to delete.

~~~~~~

Sometimes

Sometimes heartbreak comes soft
Half remembered dreams
Sobs that fade into the deep night

Sometimes heartbreak comes hard
Pain that rips me apart
Wild breaking past all my control

And sometimes
There are no words
And sometimes
I am weary
And small
And afraid

Sometimes I close my eyes
Trying hard to forget
The ones who are not here

Sometimes I cannot breathe
When I think of the cost
Holes torn into the history

And sometimes
I wonder
Why I did not pay
For my own mistakes
And why
I am still alive.

~~~~~~~~~~
Pleading Guilty
Do you truly think
That you’re the only one
Who has to live
With blood-stained hands?
These words
Spoken into darkness
Sting.
Are you the only one
Who is kept awake at night
With questions of what should have been?
The only one haunted
By the past replaying
Stuck as a spectator?
And in retrospect
None of us
Ever knew enough.
All of us
Made costly mistakes.
We are cut by the broken
That someone else shattered
But all of our blood
Cannot atone
No matter how willing we are to give.

This is not the call
Placed on our lives.
This is not a weight
That you can carry.
~~~~~~~

Fray

Sometimes scars grow
When you look at the hole
Where fabric ripped away
And realize all that it should have touched
All that it should have touched
All that it should have held
Together.
Instead
There is black nothingness
With frayed edges of thread
Blown in the wind.

~~~~~~~

I watch you break
Beneath this pressure
And my questions are sharp
With anger.
Who placed this burden on you?
What do you think
Gives you the right
Not to be human?
You are a creature
Finite and fragile
Broken and still beautiful.
And I long
For the coming restoration.

~~~~~~~~

Hebrews

We come broken and undone
To the place where we meet You
You are our only hope
When all else falls apart
You are our only sure anchor
In worlds ripped and torn
So we flee to You for refuge
And follow in Your footsteps
With bold confidence

You are the Son
God become man
And You are the One
Who knows our weaknesses
And You do not condemn
But give mercy and grace
Bringing us life
In the light of Your face

We come to You pleading for prayer
Without Your grace we cannot hold fast
We need a point that cannot be moved
So keep our feet from slipping
Faith to run with endurance
Out of these shadows and into the real.

 

Mirrors and Revelation

I look back through the cracked mirrors
Reflections of a broken life
And cry out with the psalmist
Have You forgotten me forever?
Why will You not look at me?
Do You see how my enemies gloat?

Oh my God, answer me
Otherwise I will die
My enemies will triumph
And rejoice as I falter
Unsure and shaken

But!
I trust in Your unshakable love
And my heart dances in You
You saved me!
I will sing to You
For You gave me more than I could dream.

Stronger than those memories
Of all that has gone wrong
Is the reality
Stretching before me past my horizons
A landscape of grace, saturated with color
Surely the lines have fallen to me
In pleasant places. I have a good heritage.
Sometimes the mirrors are so broken
It is better not to look back
And wait instead for Him to reveal
With eager, patient trust.

 

Playing in the Dirt

He was always playing in the dirt
Or so the stories say
And who am I to deny
As I stand in falling rain
Arms mud spattered from my filthy hands

It makes sense that He would play with dirt
Dust melded together with careful shape
Jerking into first rhythmic breath
By the inbreathing of His wind-breath-Spirit
That was how it began.

He chose, you know, to play with dirt
Very God becoming true flesh
Born in a barn, bedded in a trough
The filthy shepherds were the first to see
And they were outcasts for a reason.

Those who saw say He played with dirt
Blind men came and begged to see
To show God’s work, He spat on ground
Dust and saliva becoming mud
Dirt on eyes and he could see.

The headlines shouted that He played with dirt
A woman caught in adultery dragged
Stood self-condemned before Him, waiting for stones
And He bent and wrote in the dust at His feet
Setting her free to sin no more

His whole life was one of playing with dirt
Look who He ate with — tax collectors and traitors
Look who washed His feet — whores
His disciples ate without washing their hands
And He said our joy was too small and too weak

He was always playing in the dirt
Buried in the earth that formed at His word
Rising to breathe the Spirit anew
Breathing men of dust into men of heaven
That is how it begins.

 

Traitor Redeemed

I came to you with sunshine smiles
And fine tangled cords of death
You could see them shimmering in my hands
But you didn’t turn
And you didn’t flee
Instead holding out your wrists for me to bind

I have been Judas
Selling you for nothing I would keep
Betraying you with a kiss
I have been Peter
Too afraid to keep my eyes on yours
Denying that I ever knew you

As you stood still I tied you
Led you to the killing place
Against all the force of your love, I spilled your blood
But I didn’t know
That it would cover me
With the glorious stain that would save my life

I am Rahab
Saved by a single scarlet cord
Covenant child, no longer whore
And I am Ruth
Promising to follow what I cannot yet see
Leaving everything because you knew me

 

Eve’s Lament

The earth cries out against me
The land writhes beneath my feet
It will not bear my weight
Offers no where for me to hide

Colour temptation bright, colour it bold
Colour temptation subtle, and it is sold
These words that I once listened to
Have made everything come undone

Why does the sky grow dark and hand?
Why do thorns choke the beautiful land?
Why will He no longer walk with us?
And why is there blood on my hands?

[I am pretty obviously indebted to a lot of Raora's work for this one. Thank you!]