Oct 16 | “Calling to Repentance,” (Sermon, October 14th)

‘But woe to you Pharisees! For you tithe mint and rue and herbs of all kinds, and neglect justice and the love of God; it is these you ought to have practised, without neglecting the others. ⁴³Woe to you Pharisees! For you love to have the seat of honour in the synagogues and to be greeted with respect in the market-places. ⁴⁴Woe to you! For you are like unmarked graves, and people walk over them without realizing it.’

45 One of the lawyers answered him, ‘Teacher, when you say these things, you insult us too.’ ⁴⁶And he said, ‘Woe also to you lawyers! For you load people with burdens hard to bear, and you yourselves do not lift a finger to ease them.

Luke 11: 42-46

Several years ago there was a molestation scandal at Pennsylvania State University involving football coach Jerry Sandusky, who used The Second Mile charity for underprivileged and at risk youth that he founded to locate and groom victims.

What was most shocking about this scandal was the fact that many Penn State authorities had known about it and covered it up. Three school officials – the president, athletic director, and fellow football coach Joe Paterno – were charged with perjury, obstruction of justice, and failure to report suspected child abuse, and Paterno was fired. His dismissal was met with anger and violence by students, who rioted on campus in protest. When the school interviewed a member of student council about it, he said, and I’m paraphrasing, “None of us can really know what we would do in Paterno’s situation. We don’t know that we wouldn’t do the same thing, so we really can’t judge him.”

I’ll always remember that because both my husband and I looked at each other and shouted, “YES WE CAN.”

The abuse had gone on for nearly a decade and no-one alerted the proper authorities. Paterno admitted that he “may have heard a rumour” of Sandusky abusing boys as early as 1998. A graduate student later reported to Paterno that he witnessed an assault by Sandusky of a boy in the locker room in 2001. Sandusky was arrested in 2011. Lives were ruined. Paterno and the others were absolutely worthy of judgement.

What’s the Christian response in that kind of a situation? Are we to judge?

In our first reading we have the Apostle Paul saying the famous “Do not judge, lest you be judged,” which is echoed earlier in Luke. Many well-meaning Christians interpret this passage as a commission to be hospitable and forgiving. At times, though, I have seen this usage give rise to a Christianity that is silent on issues of justice and spurns healthy boundaries, which can leave the vulnerable in the place of proving (to the satisfaction of the powerful) that they are uncomfortable with a situation and need things to change.

And unfortunately this attitude can be taken to an extreme, with some church authorities using passages like these to silence victims of abuse, including children, and force them to forgive their abusers – often to their faces – but without comparable actions required of the abusers. The type of churches where this culture flourishes tend to be secretive and view the “outside world” with suspicion, so they are leery of submitting to any sort of “secular” discipline, which means they often don’t contact police to report these incidents.

Most Christians would obviously condemn that behaviour, but I think it is easy to, on a smaller level, be seduced by an attitude that misuses forgiveness to avoid confrontation with those who have practiced injustice.

I think part of the problem is that we regularly hear these passages out of context. Paul is specifically calling out a largely Jewish congregation who has condemned their Gentile members with idolatrous past behaviour, while papering over the fact that they have engaged in comparably idolatrous behaviours.

And it gets even more complicated, because then we have today’s Gospel reading, which feels like the exact opposite of “Do not judge!” This is such a weird pairing of passages! What could this possibly mean? Are we to leave all of the judgment up to God?

Yes and no.

Luke’s passage does not occur in a vacuum. Jesus has been invited to dinner at a Pharisee’s house! His rant is totally inappropriate to the occasion. But in the previous chapters he has been talking constantly about gaining eternal life through showing mercy, and how true blessedness is hearing the word of God AND doing it, and Nineveh’s repentance after Jonah’s proclamation, and “Consider whether the light in you is not darkness.”

That’s what he says just before he’s invited to dinner. “Consider whether the light in you is not darkness.” That somehow resonates with this Pharisee, so Jesus gets invited to dinner, makes a scene, and is met with hostility.

Good news: Repentance is possible. Bad news: No-one’s interested. As Dave Mustaine of the band Megadeth puts it, “Peace sells, but who’s buying?”

The consequences Jesus faced for calling the world to repentance were grave – much worse than being shunned, or called nasty names, or even losing a job or a friend. But he refused to be silenced. Why? Not because God demands just punishment of sinners by the righteous, but because those who were sinning were “unmarked graves.” That analogy doesn’t translate well to our Western ears. It might work better if, instead of “unmarked graves,” we hear “pitfall traps.” They are a hidden danger to others. They are those who may cause little ones to stumble.

Jesus wouldn’t have bothered to preach repentance if he didn’t think they were capable of being saved.

But they were. They are.

I really think that when Jesus told us to carry on his work, he meant for us to include calls to repentance among our own work. The strong person who willingly embraces weakness can always do more for justice than the weak person devoting every drop of energy toward wiggling out from under the boot.

Are calls to repentance judgmental? Well…yeah! If you’re telling the world that things have to change, you’re telling it the way things are doesn’t work! But we weren’t commissioned to bear bad news. We were taught to model a better way.

A kingdom way.

And I think sometimes we do that with words, and sometimes we do that with our lives.

When you come forward today to receive your Lord and Saviour, let his strength become yours. The best part of this heavy commission is that the work of repentance begins with our receiving.

What a beautiful thing: God’s gift to you becomes a gift for the whole world.

And if you live your life and only manage to proclaim repentance to yourself, do not blaspheme against your good work by saying, “It is not enough.”

In your own repentance, you gift yourself to the world.

What wondrous love. Alleluia.

Oct 04 | “Union with God,” (Sermon, October 4th)

Some Pharisees came, and to test him they asked, ‘Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?’ ³He answered them, ‘What did Moses command you?’ ⁴They said, ‘Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.’ ⁵But Jesus said to them, ‘Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you. ⁶But from the beginning of creation, “God made them male and female.” ⁷“For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, ⁸and the two shall become one flesh.” So they are no longer two, but one flesh. ⁹Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.’

10 Then in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. ¹¹He said to them, ‘Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; ¹²and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.’

13 People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. ¹⁴But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, ‘Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. ¹⁵Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.’ ¹⁶And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.

Mark 10:2-16

 

When you’re a curate, being asked to preach on this kind of Gospel reading falls under “paying your dues.”

Don’t panic.

I know what this sounds like.

I promise you are safe with me. Really. There are two generations of divorce in my family. On my mother’s side my grandfather was on his second marriage. On my father’s side my grandmother left her family, and later my grandfather married the woman I thought up until about ten years ago was my biological grandmother. Finally, my parents have been separated since I was two years old, and formally divorced since I was seven.

I was lucky. The split was perfectly amicable, and they remained very close for the rest of my father’s life.

Even though my parents split in the more liberal ‘80s, I know my mother still endured criticism for subjecting me to a “broken home.” That stigma still exists today. I had to shut off the TV several years ago during a debate because Mitt Romney was saying that, as a child from a broken home, it was only a matter of time before I was destined to go on a shooting spree.

I’m sure you’ve heard that statistic about 1 in 3 or even 1 in 2 marriages ending in divorce. Less people have heard that that statistic is a bald-faced lie. Divorce among married couples has been in decline for a for nearly forty years, and yet people still quote it as though it’s one of those universal truths. It just goes to show you how much sway a moral panic can hold over our population. Folks will often point back to how great and simple things used to be. Real life is always messy and complicated, and it was just as messy in Jesus’ time.

Divorce was actually pretty common then. However, it was very different, as you can imagine. Among the Jewish population, a woman could not divorce her husband – only the other way around. A divorce was also far more devastating for that woman. Unless she could marry again – which might be difficult since she would likely be viewed by potential suitors as (excuse the harshness) “damaged goods” – she was sure to become destitute. Without her husband’s protection, she could be forced into any number of degrading and dangerous jobs and crushing poverty.

Now among the Pharisees, there was debate about what grounds existed for divorce. The conservative Shammai school insisted that only marital infidelity was appropriate grounds. The more liberal Hillel school claimed that anything could be grounds for divorce, including – I kid you not – burning the bread. The Pharisees who come to Jesus to test him would have been familiar with this debate, and the very fact that they ask him this question show that they are not really interested in his answer. They already know the “lawful” response, which is yes…but, as sermon writer Mark Davis eloquently explains, it is not lawful in the same way that “Love your neighbour” is lawful.

Jesus is not encouraging anyone to remain in loveless, abusive, or broken marriages. To say otherwise is a complete perversion of our Lord’s command. What he commands here is far more Christian.

First: He reminds those in power of their duty to take care of the weak and vulnerable, which is evident from the placement of this passage just before the one where he blesses the children, the most vulnerable and voiceless within his culture. He also elevates these powerless ones. He elevates the woman by making her just as capable of divorce as her husband, which would have sounded absurd to his detractors. Equally absurd were his claims that a husband’s adultery was not a sin against another woman’s husband but against his own wife, and vice-versa. He later elevates children by claiming that it is they who receive the Kingdom of God – not in some romantic way that has to do with innocence or humility but in a way that says very explicitly that God chooses the small and the oppressed as royalty within the upside down kingdom.

Second – and even more wonderful: Jesus reaches outside the accepted parameters of biblical interpretation and makes marriage not just about legal contracts between families but about the whole intention of created order. In the freely entered union between empowered individuals, God intends a model for what we once had and have since lost between ourselves and our fellow human beings.

That’s why marriage is a sacrament.

This is not to elevate marriage above all other forms of human relationship. What it does do is say, “A freely entered marriage between two people demonstrates a deeply sacred truth. Any union of companionship between people, like it or not, is an outward and visible sign of the inward and visible grace of communion that humankind is meant to embody all the time. All people in these beautifully diverse unions are bound to this depth of commitment, but if you are going to stand before God and your families and friends and vow to model that union in your life, you had better read the vows carefully beforehand, because there’s no erasing those promises, even if the union ends.

That’s supposed to be good news. Marriages do end, for all kinds of reasons, and not all of them are dramatic. The truth underlying the ritual is never sullied by human frailty. Thank God for that!

And people wonder why it took me eight years to propose.

So that’s marriage. But there’s a whole other part of today’s passage that we must not leave behind. What about the children?

Here is another moment where the upside-down kingdom is made manifest. We are to take instruction from God on how to be closer to each other. We are to take instruction from children on how to be closer to God.

It is not that a child is smarter than an adult, or more innocent, or more humble. We mustn’t romanticize children in the way that women are sometimes romanticized. As flattering as it can be, being put on a pedestal is actually dehumanizing, literally.

What I have discovered about children is that a child has no time for shame during the process of learning.

What do I mean by that? I taught Celtic harp for nine years. Teaching harp to adults was way more difficult than teaching harp to children. Adults, upon making a mistake, dropped into a funk – with varying degrees of intensity – and often gave up, convinced they’d never get it right. They would become embarrassed and constantly apologize for mistakes as though I would be angry at them for not knowing everything. As often as I tried to say, “Learning is not something to be ashamed of,” they would forget it instantly.

That never happened with children.

They made a mistake. They tried again. There was often impatience, but rarely despair. There were no value judgements made against themselves for taking time to learn.

When you are a child, you don’t have time for that kind of weight. You are learning 24 hours a day. You let it go and move on.

There is a tremendous beauty, courage, and prophetic spirit in that. Heck, that attitude is great for a marriage! That is what childlike humility really looks like: the ability to simply learn, without pride insisting that you stop before someone laughs at you for being “useless” or “stupid.”

Jesus embodied that humility constantly throughout his ministry.

It is so hard to let go. That weight is accumulated gram by gram, year by year, until it feels like an organic part of you. But it’s not.

It was not always so, my beloved.

What could we do without that weight – if we were really willing to learn without Adam’s fear of being seen naked?

I think without that weight, we could even stay married to God.

When you come to the altar today to receive your beloved, try to set that weight down. Don’t worry if you don’t leave all of it there on the first go – it takes time.

Take some instruction from our children and start slow. Maybe try leaving just a piece.

Exchange it for bread.

Sep 23 | “Refugees for Christ,” (Sermon, September 23rd)

Then Jesus called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, ²and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal. ³He said to them, ‘Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic. ⁴Whatever house you enter, stay there, and leave from there. ⁵Wherever they do not welcome you, as you are leaving that town shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them.’ ⁶They departed and went through the villages, bringing the good news and curing diseases everywhere.

Luke 9:1-6

Janelle and I wash our tools

In the summer of 2014, I journeyed to El Salvador with ten or eleven other young people on what was called “an exposure trip.” They called it that so we would not think we were going to “save” people. We went to be immersed in a culture and shaped by a people.

How did this look? It looked like taking a drive to a somewhat remote community called San Antonio with a truckload of fruit trees, and wandering along their unpaved gravel roads with other community members – a lot of them children – to poke our heads into yards and ask anyone present if their garden would like a fruit tree. If they said yes, they could pick one of several different kinds and tell us where to plant. We did this not only to help out hungry families, but to contribute to much-needed reforestation in the area.

I had to confirm that that was what we were doing with someone who spoke better Spanish, because it delighted and astounded me. “Can you imagine doing this back home?” I said to her. “People would call the police!”

I should mention that we did this under armed police guard, because gang activity was very bad in that region. Abductions and violence were rampant. That – along with my regular use of a machete during that trip – was something I decided to keep from my mother until I was home and she could see for herself that I was still in one piece.

It was hard then to imagine living under the threat of such violence. Today, it is hard for me to comprehend the kind of danger that forces a family to leave everything behind and become refugees.

For Jesus and his disciples, this would have been familiar. Jesus himself had been a refugee as an infant; his family was forced to flee to Egypt to avoid a murderous Herod.

Jesus wouldn’t have needed an exposure trip…and yet I think he sent his disciples on one anyway.

Jesus has been telling parables, healing people, and performing wonders like stilling the storm. Finally, he bestows those gifts on his disciples. They are empowered, literally. But in the next breath, Jesus strips them of their ability to care for themselves. They are totally dependent on each other and on the very people they are going out to serve.

So no staff? You better help each other up that hill. No bag? Bring only what can fit in your pocket. No bread? Find someone to feed you. No money? You can’t buy your way out of trouble. No extra tunic? You’ll have to huddle together for warmth, and run the risk of being filthy and unpresentable.

They don’t even get to pick the house they want to stay in. They have to spend the whole time in the first house they see – whether they like it or not.

They are being called to be voluntary refugees.

Jesus warns them that not everyone will welcome them. When he instructs the disciples to shake the dust off their feet “as a testimony against” those who refuse to welcome them, it sounds like condemnation, but it’s actually more complicated than that.

See, Jesus says to do this “as you are leaving” the town that will not welcome, but are they supposed to leave as soon as they are rejected…or only once they have determined that no-one wants them there? And furthermore, are they to leave only after they have provided the services Jesus has called them to provide?

The text doesn’t say.

So what could this be about?

Maybe it’s about taking nothing in return when we leave. That way, we bring only gifts to a community, and if we are not accepted, we must not take anything, even the land itself, from them.

That’s pretty radical, when you think about it. That’s like pacifism cranked up to 11.

Now, this is not something that an involuntary refugee can do. Driven by need, they can’t afford to choose another community, and they often can’t afford to take nothing from that community.

But we refugees for Christ, empowered to go out into the world, can afford to share all of the gifts we have been given and take nothing in return.

So how do we become refugees for Christ? What is it that we are to leave behind as we begin our quest to proclaim the good news and heal? There may be physical things, but I don’t want to only focus on those, because they’re usually the easiest to get rid of.

Perhaps there are attitudes and fears that are best left behind. Imagine them as a thousand little lead weights hooked inside our tunic, weighing us down. Take them out. Look at them. What’s written on them?

Mine say, “Envy.” “Fear.” “Hidden prejudice.” “Self-disgust.” “Pride.” “Judgement.” “Greed.”

Take them out. Look at them. Don’t judge them – that just adds more!

Leave them at home: leave them with Jesus.

If we truly become refugees for Christ, those who welcome us will probably be very like us – and those who do not will be fearful or even angry at our presence, for a variety of reasons.

So let’s proclaim and heal among those who welcome, and for those who don’t, let us pass through their midst, take nothing from them, and leave a little space at the end of the line. Let’s shake the dust off our feet. Not even the crumbs of exclusion should touch our feet – our unshod, bleeding feet.

It’s certainly not allowed to be so for those who do not choose poverty and exile.

Just as God chose, so let us choose.

Amen.

Sep 15 | Mark 15:1-11 (Poem)

As soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate. ²Pilate asked him, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ He answered him, ‘You say so.’ ³Then the chief priests accused him of many things. ⁴Pilate asked him again, ‘Have you no answer? See how many charges they bring against you.’ ⁵But Jesus made no further reply, so that Pilate was amazed.

6 Now at the festival he used to release a prisoner for them, anyone for whom they asked. ⁷Now a man called Barabbas was in prison with the rebels who had committed murder during the insurrection. ⁸So the crowd came and began to ask Pilate to do for them according to his custom. ⁹Then he answered them, ‘Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?’ ¹⁰For he realized that it was out of jealousy that the chief priests had handed him over. ¹¹But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release Barabbas for them instead.

barabbas, barabbas

release for us the son of the father

(not the son of the father of all)

mark says this was not the crowd

this was jealousy

oh, jealousy

much maligned green one

an excuse for anger and resentment

a refuge for those who refuse to abandon objectification

a manor house for hearts too weak or too young

to accept other-ness

the chain willfully put on and dragged about

(like marley’s,

but he carried his too long to escape)

why in life would you pick it up

and why carry it as though you have no choice?

barabbas was no beauty

he inspired no similar envy

all generosity is handed over to the one worthy of scorn

all handsome charity offered to the one who prefers to take than to give life

all accolades served up to the one who spurns solidarity for blood

there will be a reckoning

and it will not be against any monster

she is only a tool

seized

like her object

Sep 15 | Mark 14:66-72 (Poem)

66 While Peter was below in the courtyard, one of the servant-girls of the high priest came by. ⁶⁷When she saw Peter warming himself, she stared at him and said, ‘You also were with Jesus, the man from Nazareth.’ ⁶⁸But he denied it, saying, ‘I do not know or understand what you are talking about.’ And he went out into the forecourt. Then the cock crowed. ⁶⁹And the servant-girl, on seeing him, began again to say to the bystanders, ‘This man is one of them.’ ⁷⁰But again he denied it. Then after a little while the bystanders again said to Peter, ‘Certainly you are one of them; for you are a Galilean.’ ⁷¹But he began to curse, and he swore an oath, ‘I do not know this man you are talking about.’ ⁷²At that moment the cock crowed for the second time. Then Peter remembered that Jesus had said to him, ‘Before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.’ And he broke down and wept.

who is she, with sneering voice

“aren’t you a galilean?”

never spoken of, no story of her own

why point him out? why rout him

like a rat or a bug?

who was he to you?

ah, but without her

your will could not be done

it is not an admirable job

a spy, an owl on a housetop

a garbage collector

an exterminator

so loathed she has no story

but jael had one, and jezebel

and tamar and dinah

one woman

for the sins of the world

forgotten

Sep 15 | Mark 14:53-65 (Poem)

53 They took Jesus to the high priest; and all the chief priests, the elders, and the scribes were assembled. ⁵⁴Peter had followed him at a distance, right into the courtyard of the high priest; and he was sitting with the guards, warming himself at the fire. ⁵⁵Now the chief priests and the whole council were looking for testimony against Jesus to put him to death; but they found none. ⁵⁶For many gave false testimony against him, and their testimony did not agree. ⁵⁷Some stood up and gave false testimony against him, saying, ⁵⁸‘We heard him say, “I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands.” ’ ⁵⁹But even on this point their testimony did not agree. ⁶⁰Then the high priest stood up before them and asked Jesus, ‘Have you no answer? What is it that they testify against you?’ ⁶¹But he was silent and did not answer. Again the high priest asked him, ‘Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?’ ⁶²Jesus said, ‘I am; and
“you will see the Son of Man
seated at the right hand of the Power”,
and “coming with the clouds of heaven.” ’
⁶³Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, ‘Why do we still need witnesses? ⁶⁴You have heard his blasphemy! What is your decision?’ All of them condemned him as deserving death. ⁶⁵Some began to spit on him, to blindfold him, and to strike him, saying to him, ‘Prophesy!’ The guards also took him over and beat him.

outside in

the danger of a coal fire

everything comes out

like sparks

catch your cloak ablaze

burnt naked and bare

fearful and open

to the spit, the grit

the thorns, the scorn

the bloody forehead

stomp that out

i am the dark

i am no-one

wide eyes

why

why did i say that?

and how did he know?

Sep 15 | John 8:47-59 (Poem)

⁴⁷Whoever is from God hears the words of God. The reason you do not hear them is that you are not from God.’

48 The Jews answered him, ‘Are we not right in saying that you are a Samaritan and have a demon?’ ⁴⁹Jesus answered, ‘I do not have a demon; but I honour my Father, and you dishonour me. ⁵⁰Yet I do not seek my own glory; there is one who seeks it and he is the judge. ⁵¹Very truly, I tell you, whoever keeps my word will never see death.’ ⁵²The Jews said to him, ‘Now we know that you have a demon. Abraham died, and so did the prophets; yet you say, “Whoever keeps my word will never taste death.” ⁵³Are you greater than our father Abraham, who died? The prophets also died. Who do you claim to be?’ ⁵⁴Jesus answered, ‘If I glorify myself, my glory is nothing. It is my Father who glorifies me, he of whom you say, “He is our God”, ⁵⁵though you do not know him. But I know him; if I were to say that I do not know him, I would be a liar like you. But I do know him and I keep his word. ⁵⁶Your ancestor Abraham rejoiced that he would see my day; he saw it and was glad.’ ⁵⁷Then the Jews said to him, ‘You are not yet fifty years old, and have you seen Abraham?’ ⁵⁸Jesus said to them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, before Abraham was, I am.’ ⁵⁹So they picked up stones to throw at him, but Jesus hid himself and went out of the temple.

in the kettle of the cosmos, bubbles battle

back and forth, back and forth

smashing stars

crushing carbon

like blood from a rock, life is squeezed from light

i watch and prepare

watch and wait

“now, child, now

stir the soup;

take the seeds,

sow some weeds”

from the handfuls of mind came one, then two

more for you and me to lose

and love

painful as acid in the throat

never to be swallowed, never to be excised

only there burning quietly

in the dark

of course i saw him

the one who knew

the one who grew

into a father

a tender

a root within damp earth

a seed for the people

unremarkable on its own

the truth hurts, don’t it?

Sep 15 | Mark 14:43-52 (Poem)

Immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, arrived; and with him there was a crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders. ⁴⁴Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, ‘The one I will kiss is the man; arrest him and lead him away under guard.’ ⁴⁵So when he came, he went up to him at once and said, ‘Rabbi!’ and kissed him. ⁴⁶Then they laid hands on him and arrested him. ⁴⁷But one of those who stood near drew his sword and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear. ⁴⁸Then Jesus said to them, ‘Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest me as though I were a bandit? ⁴⁹Day after day I was with you in the temple teaching, and you did not arrest me. But let the scriptures be fulfilled.’ ⁵⁰All of them deserted him and fled.

51 A certain young man was following him, wearing nothing but a linen cloth. They caught hold of him, ⁵²but he left the linen cloth and ran off naked.

not i, not i

all deserted and fled

not i, not i

embedded in the heart

the sword of terror

the hands reach out

to grasp, to know

like an angel in sodom

i go

the force, the fear

hits a load-bearing wall

breaking all hope of honour

all followed and promised but none remain

the same who proclaimed passion

crumbled before a lashing expected

undelivered

we slithered

our legs hidden in knotholes, under trees

as punishment

i am not immune

i too

shattered before the coming of the storm

no honour worth nails and thorns

take it and leave me

i’ll give you everything

even though i promised it

to the prisoner

Sep 15 | Mark 14:27-42 (Poem)

²⁷And Jesus said to them, ‘You will all become deserters; for it is written,
“I will strike the shepherd,
and the sheep will be scattered.”
²⁸But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.’ ²⁹Peter said to him, ‘Even though all become deserters, I will not.’ ³⁰Jesus said to him, ‘Truly I tell you, this day, this very night, before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.’ ³¹But he said vehemently, ‘Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you.’ And all of them said the same.

32 They went to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I pray.’ ³³He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. ³⁴And he said to them, ‘I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.’ ³⁵And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. ³⁶He said, ‘Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.’ ³⁷He came and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, ‘Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep awake one hour? ³⁸Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.’ ³⁹And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words. ⁴⁰And once more he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy; and they did not know what to say to him. ⁴¹He came a third time and said to them, ‘Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Enough! The hour has come; the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. ⁴²Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.’

See, oh see

how the pot is shattered

on packed earth, hard as stone

unknown before this

cracks appear, betray weak root systems

my seeds were sown in weak earth

among thorns my vines grew up

choked, poked, striped red and purple

whiplike words resurface within a wasted brain

“You will deny, you will fly, the crying

will never cease.”

Oh please,

return.

Don’t leave me burning.

Sep 15 | Retreat (Poem)

crack me open

blood flows green

like a butterfly’s

like a cactus

holding all the secret wet within

the sweat like sap

carves channels into weary flesh

salty falls burning off city fumes

and lights drowning

in jade depths unseen

skin cracked like bark, gleefully shed

skin purple with the weight of “good morning”

“i’d like tea”

“i have a meeting”

“that sounds frustrating”

popped like a bubble

floating over a lake

one soapy droplet tumbling through emerald air

glad to add itself

to a mass of nothing in particular

(only the source of life itself)

glad to lose itself

and return to a forgotten first

before silence was understood

as a deficit

before basking in being was understood

as burden

before “bigger is better”

when everything was new

and unclaimed

unashamed

and enough