Like satin thread held by a needle point
—acutely sharp and particularly directed—
I begin to weave apologies,
or is it just one big apology(?),
through ripped red and yellow patches,
hoping to make One
the purple shredded quilt that covers me
in trembling times like these.
Some say:
What are you talking about? You don’t need to apologize.
Others:
Are you kidding? I wasn’t even mad.
And then the kind you love/hate to hear:
Thank you. It’s okay: I forgive you.
The truth is: when my life gets hectic I hurt people.
And the awful truth is: the people I hurt tend to be those I love the most
because some stupid sense whispers “it’s okay; they can take it.”
and they can, which is what makes it all the more awful.
Clerics and clergy will often speak about forgiveness
during this season. Wrapped up somewhere in the
dying and rising of a first century Palestinian Jew
lies the secret to God’s unchanging, eternal Spirit:
grace.
But I must say, I’ve learned more about redemption
and God’s ever changing,
here today/gone tomorrow body
by way of being sorry
and undeservingly absolved.
Some wonder why I cannot kneel prostrate
in front of a God who would extend salvation
to the earth by way of substitutionary atonement.
Well I will tell you: any God who is God
must treat His or Her friends way better than
I treat mine. Unmerited favor does not have to
equal an intentionally ripped blanket.
2 comments:
i'm tardy as usual... but i just wanted to say that i love you. and your ripped blanket too.
Another gracefully good poem, good for churching. But it's interesting how much the season affects what message I feel I need to hear. This feels so much like a Lent poem - not a summer poem. Even with nasty murders rocking the country and world, somehow I box that feeling of grief into another time in the year. And I reserve this time for less weighty matters, less important matters, to sinking into myself and enjoying the weather and the time at hand - all that stuff I am touching daily. So while I love this poem, it's not what I would first pick for a summertime church reading, although it would be a shame to the world if you never did preach on this some day. (At least when I have a church and call on you for sermons?)
Post a Comment