Greyscapes
There is a grey space
murky before the dawn
where questions abound broad and deep.
Then and now
is there broad definition— heal
measured not in limbs and cells
counted and recounted
but in communion
weighed in hours spent
cloistered in the sanctuary of suffering
naked need – that seed of knowing?
Did God intend that we not know evil
but embrace knowing him?
Then and now
which ones fisted the hem
and did not let go
escaping the mortal bounds of earth
for the expanse
of eternity?
Leaving our hearts
half in Gennesaret
half in heaven.
This pain knows no bounds.
But
God’s love cannot
be removed
that which he births
remains.
Then and now
now that we have seen Jesus, scourged and resurrected, we
live in a land where it is not the certainty of knowing—
outcomes veiled
but the certainty of journeying
face to face, heart inside of mortal heart
is this healing?
“What’s next?” The world is in a situation where this has become almost a universal question? Although I ask myself, has Covid19 really changed anything for those who daily try to survive the extremes of poverty and vulnerability to secondary infections? When my oldest daughter was working in missions, she said to me, “I don’t know why they call it a mission field. In a field you can see a long way. They should call it the mission forest…” This poem is about that – the ‘what next?s’ of Gennesaret and now.
There is a grey space, murky before the dawn, where questions abound broad and deep, but without the insistence of daylight that one discern an answer. It is a safe space in which to contemplate. Space in which Jesus might ask a few questions of his own. The story of Gennesaret whispers a couple of those questions. I do not have the answers. Original sin was seduced by this slithering lie, ” you will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” We don’t have to know all the answers, though I might try some on for size, to see if they fit. The trick is in remembering that the answers have to fit Jesus, not me. He is the one with the healing robe.
jfig 4/2020
Jesus, we love you, for having held our questions for literally centuries, gracing us time to wrestle, and the offense of misinterpreting/maligning your intent time and time again. There is a hunger deep inside, to know you and have our ‘needs met’ not by what we want, but by who you are. You are the dawn we seek, Holy One. Amen
Roasted Words 