best man in the true wedding
among men and prophets none greater
John, fulfilled in diminishment
was that what made you greater?
love. for the Son, your cousin
eclipsed disciple's pride
the voice calling in the wilderness
leaps at the Bridegroom's sign
but still not beyond doubting
to ask, "are you the One"?
was that just ignorance speaking?
about how the Groom should be?
or was decreasing harder
than you expected it would be?
but the blind did see
and the lame men walked
so i'm betting joy leapt again inside
despite the death you faced
and the prison you were inside
another womb to exit unto life
20090918
20090525
on giving
I fear i am too detached from my giving,
for the people i give it to mostly give it away.
What good does that do me?
When i give to those
who give to those
who give to the needy,
am i really giving to the needy?
There's no human face on it.
I never see God do His work with it.
Oh, it's good that i give to those
who give to the needy,
for they do it better than i.
But it means more
when i give to a needy stranger
and look him in the eye.
Or even a needy friend,
if God is the reason why.
If i joyfully, faithfully fund the charities,
that's a good thing to be sure.
But that's not all
that the call to give is for.
for the people i give it to mostly give it away.
What good does that do me?
When i give to those
who give to those
who give to the needy,
am i really giving to the needy?
There's no human face on it.
I never see God do His work with it.
Oh, it's good that i give to those
who give to the needy,
for they do it better than i.
But it means more
when i give to a needy stranger
and look him in the eye.
Or even a needy friend,
if God is the reason why.
If i joyfully, faithfully fund the charities,
that's a good thing to be sure.
But that's not all
that the call to give is for.
20090422
i want
i want a new world
i want a new body
with better reasons to sing
i want a pure heart
one that doesn't feel the shame
of the weakness hiding in me
i want the strength to believe
and the vision to see
that i can share in that world
today
i want the patience to wait
and the mind to conceive
so this hope can overflow me
i want to see you
with my eyes not just my mind
i want to know you
with fingertips that are mine
i want forever
filled with possibilities
i want this tension
to be just a memory
i want you to teach me
how i really ought to be
who it is you're making me.
i want to look up
and love the people that i see
with the things you know they need
20090315
one year
one year,
sadness still.
that, too,
is good.
time passed,
laughing girl.
that, too,
is yours.
tears rise
as blood falls.
that, too,
does hurt.
grey skies,
hide sunrise.
that, too,
can heal.
deep vows,
embrace truth.
that, too,
is proof.
love lives,
death is dead.
that, too,
brings peace.
20081204
it's not fair
Ok, the last post was started out of frustration with the idea of fairness and became something rather different. I'm still irritated by "fairness" though. So i'm trying again...
I just don't see fairness as a very biblical, God-like concept, at least not in most pleas for it. "It's not fair" feels like selfishness well-disguised. It is "i deserve better" dressed up in the false humility of tolerance and equality. "Fair" is a word more meaningful in this world's economy than in God's economy. It is the failed law of "eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth" that need never touch the heart of the problem, the heart of us. It speaks always of shallow thinking or selfishness deeply buried.
Fairness is wholly empty of the sacrificial love and extravagant grace of God.
When i was younger, my siblings and i would whine, "it's not fair". My father's usual reply was the typical, "life's not fair." I, in the infinite wisdom of the adolescent, would always think, "but shouldn't we strive to make it fair?!" Now i know better. Fair would be a terrible thing for life to be, for in all fairness, we deserve nothing of the grace of God. The living root of true Justice is Love. Fairness is justice cut free of its living root. Fairness is a cold and loveless calculation. When we cry "it's not fair", we paste that calculation atop false assumptions about what we deserve to argue for the outcome we desire. And what outcome is that? Justification for our selfishness, either to share less of the bounty God has graciously and undeservedly given us or to covet what was graciously and undeservedly given to others.
Life is not fair. I am very glad for that.
I just don't see fairness as a very biblical, God-like concept, at least not in most pleas for it. "It's not fair" feels like selfishness well-disguised. It is "i deserve better" dressed up in the false humility of tolerance and equality. "Fair" is a word more meaningful in this world's economy than in God's economy. It is the failed law of "eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth" that need never touch the heart of the problem, the heart of us. It speaks always of shallow thinking or selfishness deeply buried.
Fairness is wholly empty of the sacrificial love and extravagant grace of God.
When i was younger, my siblings and i would whine, "it's not fair". My father's usual reply was the typical, "life's not fair." I, in the infinite wisdom of the adolescent, would always think, "but shouldn't we strive to make it fair?!" Now i know better. Fair would be a terrible thing for life to be, for in all fairness, we deserve nothing of the grace of God. The living root of true Justice is Love. Fairness is justice cut free of its living root. Fairness is a cold and loveless calculation. When we cry "it's not fair", we paste that calculation atop false assumptions about what we deserve to argue for the outcome we desire. And what outcome is that? Justification for our selfishness, either to share less of the bounty God has graciously and undeservedly given us or to covet what was graciously and undeservedly given to others.
Life is not fair. I am very glad for that.
phony shortcuts and cheap substitutes
seem to be all the deceiver ever offers
in the garden, in the desert,
in my head.
to Adam, to Christ,
to me.
One of us three always saw through it.
fairness is Justice writ shallow;
tolerance is nothing like Love.
self-glorification is but vaguely like Glory;
believing in oneself has never taught Faith.
power is only in what you will give;
what you can get will never plug the holes.
there is only one true Hope;
only Freedom in the strong grip of Grace;
only Beauty in the straight highways of the King.
the shortcuts are cliffs and mires;
the substitutes polished by the tyrant's slaves.
still, only One of us three always sees through it.
in the garden, in the desert,
in my head.
to Adam, to Christ,
to me.
One of us three always saw through it.
fairness is Justice writ shallow;
tolerance is nothing like Love.
self-glorification is but vaguely like Glory;
believing in oneself has never taught Faith.
power is only in what you will give;
what you can get will never plug the holes.
there is only one true Hope;
only Freedom in the strong grip of Grace;
only Beauty in the straight highways of the King.
the shortcuts are cliffs and mires;
the substitutes polished by the tyrant's slaves.
still, only One of us three always sees through it.
20080428
Gilead
I just finished reading Marilynne Robinson's "Gilead". I cried at its end, not for its end, nor because it was sad. It was beautiful. I sat there on the toilet reading until my legs were asleep to finish, a ridiculous place to experience beauty that would make one weep.
The book is no master piece of poetry, no epic, not the brash offspring of sharp wit or forceful essay of vast intellect. I would not call the story or its players particularly memorable. No surprising twists. No strange quirks. No gimmicks. No cliffhangers or breathtakers. The landscape is plain, with residents to match. The story moves slow, even sluggishly along. If anything in it is foreign or new to me, it is the age of John Ames. But that, too, is not unusual, only outside my experience to date.
There is no escapism or novelty to grab interest in this novel. I can think of little to recommend it to you, except perhaps to say that it moves me. Its town is blessed in the end by the old man, "To me it seems rather Christlike to be as unadorned as this place is, as little regarded." As the town is to him, the like-named book is to me, a clear yet gentle echo of real beauty, humble enough to be thoroughly human. The very bones of it are composed of grace, the muscle faith, the skin a little regarded, dying man.
If you read it, do not be afraid to take a long time and let it sink in slowly. As one reviewer on the back of this library copy says, it is "a book to be savored." It is rich food, best not gulped down in a hurry.
The book is no master piece of poetry, no epic, not the brash offspring of sharp wit or forceful essay of vast intellect. I would not call the story or its players particularly memorable. No surprising twists. No strange quirks. No gimmicks. No cliffhangers or breathtakers. The landscape is plain, with residents to match. The story moves slow, even sluggishly along. If anything in it is foreign or new to me, it is the age of John Ames. But that, too, is not unusual, only outside my experience to date.
There is no escapism or novelty to grab interest in this novel. I can think of little to recommend it to you, except perhaps to say that it moves me. Its town is blessed in the end by the old man, "To me it seems rather Christlike to be as unadorned as this place is, as little regarded." As the town is to him, the like-named book is to me, a clear yet gentle echo of real beauty, humble enough to be thoroughly human. The very bones of it are composed of grace, the muscle faith, the skin a little regarded, dying man.
If you read it, do not be afraid to take a long time and let it sink in slowly. As one reviewer on the back of this library copy says, it is "a book to be savored." It is rich food, best not gulped down in a hurry.
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