I have been thinking, praying too
often these last two days
the throw-away expletive
His counsel, this officer of the court
His taking of the savior’s name
an exasperation, a common swear,
blurted into the air, setting quite an example
A moment of witness, lost there, by me
a clumsy fumbled response, catching him; but weak
Oh to be stronger, to state my faith
to claim the offense of that casual,
that all too real sin, another nail,
another striking, the nails of the cross;
to claim my savior in those moments
these moments of witness, to call out
a light in the darkness, the coarseness
the crassness of our times.
To be the voice of John, and uncomfortable witness,
standing in the cold waters
out in the wilderness, urging repentance, a change of heart
to be certain enough, sure enough
standing up, at the reckoning
speaking out – blasphemer!
That is my king! Your savior too,
if you will but claim him, as your own.
Let me never miss, let me be counted
Give voice to the right, to the spirit
even in the casual, throw-away moments of faith
Teach me Lord to fight, to speak your glory
to add salve to your wounds
Not meekly allowing another blow on the nail heads.
To catch his hand as he swings the hammer;
Saying, No, that is not okay, whatever your view.
March 6, 2009
written at Agape Café,
Wesley United Methodist Church,
Concord, NH
No comments:
Post a Comment