Prayer of Absolution

Touch deep unto deep,

And scour my spirit

Of all derision.

 

Cleanse me of all

Circular thoughts

Of piercing despair.

 

Awaken my soul

To trust beyond reason.

To rest between the lines.

 

Settle me in the crux

Of Your mystery,

Grace and truth.

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Rite of Spring

Common Grackles rested

on the naked Maple canopy.

Like aneurysms waiting

to burst into flight

they bent the thinning branches.

 

They had every rite of spring.

Some of them loitered

through the winter

and saw their reflections on ice.

What freedom to stay.

 

Christ stayed on the tree

and burst unto death

and burst into flight.

 

Spoken Light. The Sound of Vision.

Photo by Roberto Gonzalez
Khor Virap Church, Arashat, Armenia

 

From whence came this beam of light?

Did the particles roll off the Tongue?

Can sound give birth to brilliance?

 

Genesis 1:3

John 8:12

John 1:1

 

Redemption: The Hope for Transformation.

Abused freedom holds within in it the seed of redemption.

Depravity holds within it the seed of redemption.

Redemption’s necessity is only because things go awry, mostly humans go awry.

I think it was in Ravi Zacharias’ book Why Jesus that one communist/atheist country is allowing Christianity in to quell the instability and in fighting. The concept of redemption was the catalyst they put their stock in to stabilize their country.

The more that time goes by, the tighter I embrace the concept of redemption. Without it humanity is in utter despair; not to mention utter disrepair…I am humanity. Christianity’s unique element is redemption. The absolute center of the faith is the hope of redemption. The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ continues to echo off the mountains, even though the characteristic of echoes are their fading decibels.

I recall a time in church years back where a young lady was singing “I Know My Redeemer Lives”. This girl started the song with the charisma of Nicole C. Mullen herself (The artist that sent this song to the top of the charts.) and as she continued she either forgot some lyrics or went off key and she struggled to get back on track and ended up stopping. She apologized. I shouted from the back “No! It’s okay. Keep going.” This was in a pretty subdued church where cat calls rarely or never happened. My passion got the better of me because of the huge epiphany. She was singing about redemption and I saw that God could even redeem her situation. He already had, in my heart anyway.

Is there a situation that you feel is irredeemable? Let me throw some hope your way. Redemption is more than an idea. It is emanating from the Christ. Jesus oozes restoration. Without Jesus the redeemer I am a man most miserable.

This song remains one of my favorites and gains more depth as my earthly journey continues…

Cruci-fiction?

Would I touch the open wounds of Jesus

if he were to stand in the lonely places

of my heart?

Would I dare thrust my hand into his

side like a spear?

Would I gently place my fingers

in the palms of his hands?

There are places where crucifixion

wasn’t fiction at all.

The suffering of the cross cascaded

down through history,

it being the pinnacle of paradox.

The place where love and hate intersect.

So now we sometimes use innocent

suffering and death as a crucible

of the non-fiction Christ.

We read history books to numb any

existential wandering in our own

back yard.

There are crucified hearts laying,

one by one, without a beat,

hoping loosely for a resurrecting

touch, look, hug.

Will I look at the whole worlds suffering

and lose their own soul?

I don’t want Your death to be in vain

when there are opportunities to

touch the open wounds of those

near by.

Any Other Way

Oh God, come any other way,

but not as a child.

 

Come in a space ship

so we can claim you as an alien,

as a figment of our imagination.

 

Wash up on earth’s shore

so we can claim you as a castaway

an unknown, scraggly and salt soaked.

 

Walk into town as a vagabond

so we can look and call authorities

to distance us.

 

Stand by the side of the road

so we can decide if your thumb up

is necessary for us to stop.

 

But please don’t come as a baby.

Don’t come and coo and cry

and take our breath away.

 

Don’t come as we did,

dependant and humble

and wrapped up tight.

 

Just don’t, don’t be so vulnerable

as a wonder from a womb

bathed in the liquid of humanity.

 

Don’t come as a child, please.

For then we would need to

hold you in our arms.

 

Don’t come as an infant

so innocent and small

for we might get emotional.

 

Don’t come as we once were

to become as we

should be.

 

Don’t come in this mysterious way

for then we might come

and adore You.