holy week – Accepting This

Resurrected

Inspired by John 20

–

They looked for you here,
ran to your tomb, only to find the linens
that were used to wrap you
Mary thought you were a gardener,
until you said her name
It took some time for them to recognize
to believe that you were alive again,
Thomas had to touch your side,
to feel the nail marks on your hands

The cool spring air slides through my open windows,
as the early morning sun glosses the green buds on
the awakening trees,
I listen to a recording of my pop-pop playing trumpet
off of a worn down and scratchy CD
Every sweet note lingers in the space around me
as I remember, I won’t find You in the grave,
You are alive, You are not there
You are risen indeed

The crowd gathers to hear about your miracle,
but how many of us will leave
with out recognizing that your death was an invitation to
newness, that you long to make a new creation out of me
How could I turn away from this hope that you have revealed,
my questions stretch towards the heavens but I will not
be consumed by the limitations of my humanness
I can’t stand still in the truth of all of this

Your body was broken, and you bear the scars to prove it
and if I ask like Thomas, you’ll let my hands curve around
your resurrected wounds
You’ll say my name so that I know it is You

When fear overcomes
and terror endures
I lock my doors and hide
Yet you come to me
in overwhelming love,
surpassing peace
your spirit flows
it covers me

You are not dead,
you’re not hanging on that cross
Jesus, you are alive
and you are calling us

“Come to me,
I will give you rest
a rescue from this world,
from your weariness
I am making all things new
and in this moment,
my Peace I give to you.”

This is glorious,
the grace that you have lavished upon me
this is redemption and now I can truly live
In this life I will follow you,
author and perfecter of my faith,
in every sorrow, in every disappointment,
in every pain, in every death
you stand sovereign
giving purpose to my breath
This hope is not a coping mechanism,
it is the anchor to my soul
It pulses in my blood,
transforms my every thought
The Truth of who you are,
a conquering light,
defeating the dark

The Things You Carried

Inspired by John 19.28-37

–

When you go to the cross,
will you take my shame?
I’m living in leftover layers from my past,
consumed by oceans of regret,
caught up with what I should
and should not have said

When you go to the cross,
will you take my pain?
my flesh fails, my body aches
my hands are weak,
they often shake
my anxiety, it creeps up on me
makes a home in the back of my neck
snakes around my nerves
and strangles my dexterity
many days there is not much left of me

When you go to the cross,
will you take my loss?
flashing visions of the ones I’ve loved,
tremor through my mind in moments of panic
I see their mouths gasping for breath
I call out to them, don’t go
not yet

When you go to the cross,
will you take my pride?
I hate the way it controls my life
sneaking into every scenario,
claiming ownership over my disposition
calling attention to my selfish condition

When you go to the cross,
will you take my sorrow?
It’s rooted so deep in me,
pulling apart those moments of joy
like a frayed fabric, I want the whole
piece but it won’t let me have it

When you go to the cross,
will you take my sin?
I’m a wreck and I always have been
a part from you I’m left in the mire
covered in ashes, headed to a blazing fire

My separation from you is real in this moment
the darkness sets in the hour of your crucifixion
it was my mocking voice that put you on that cross
and then your skin was broken, you bled for us

After one last bitter sip,
you cried the words “It is finished”
your body hanging bare and beaten
your mercy for me made alive
in your death you have made me new
this sacrifice I cannot undo

When you rise from the dead,
will you remember my name?
I am your child,
you have made me that way.

He Loved Them to the End

Inspired by John 13.1-35

–

You knew the cross would take you soon
your hour had finally come
and in this knowledge I stand in awe of you
often confused by you
Knowing the beginning to the end
You loved them to the end

You filled the basin with water,
took Peter’s foot in your hand
He struggled to accept your grace,
refusing your decline to the lowly place
Reminded of the depths of his sin,
he asked you to then wash his hands and his head

You knew who would betray you,
you loved him still and again
and this is the part that breaks me
I have an odd sense of sympathy,
I beg Judas to change his mind
every time I read this piece of history

If love is what you gave to them,
and love is what you give to me
then love I should give to all
even those who may turn their back on me

If love is service and sacrifice,
because you became a servant and The Sacrifice
I should seek to serve and to sacrifice
every moment, every day of my life

And you loved them to the end,
the disciple laid his head against your chest
your presence full of peace and rest
And you loved them to the fullest extent

Red Lettered Death

Inspired by John 12.20-36
Encouraged by John Piper, Dying as a Means of Loving

–

I’ve always known the red letters were sacred
and when I read them to myself I would try to deepen the tone
of my voice in my head, to make them sound more like Jesus
to make something or someone distant, feel a little closer

And in my dark moments of depression
when I clung to disobedience in fear that
following you would leave me more empty
I may have echoed the words of the Greeks at the feast,
“I wish to see you”
Many times I made the request,
Many times you revealed yourself and I turned away,
caught up in sorrow, persuaded by the need to save
To save someone on my own,
with my own strength

And in my elated moments of pride and false contentment,
I may have echoed those ancient words again
tossing my plea like a coin to a fountain
not knowing that your presence requires death

I remember the day that I committed to following you,
preceded by a lifetime of arguing, doubting,
surrendering and taking it back,
questioning, pondering, watching and waiting,
and finally saying
make me into something new,
take my life I give it to you.

I was a grain of wheat
fighting my fall to my death,
thank God for the moment that I finally gave in

I gave in to your grace and my death
led to Life,
I wish to see you Jesus
for who you are and not what I’ve made you out to be
I wish to know you Lord,
in the intricate ways that you have known and loved me

As you laid your life down for me,
teach me to do the same
Every day dying to self,
Heaven is my gain

As you shed your red blood for me,
spoken in red letters on paper to see
Dismantle my pride and obsession with
shortcomings,
Conquer my desire for earthly things,
put my selfishness to a red death
by a crucified King

Make me Like Mary

Inspired by John 12.1-11

–

Mary poured out her oil onto your feet,
your skin saturated and slippery
the fragrance of holiness catching the senses of
all in that home in Bethany
Lazarus was breathing again,
his life felt real and awake as he inhaled,
exhaled the glory of your existence
Martha could smell it from the kitchen,
where she joyfully wept while washing dishes
her heart raw from the death and life of her brother
could these days be compared to any other?

Judas, angry and appalled
why would so much value be
emptied, couldn’t one drop be enough?
It was not the poor he was worried for,
it was the selfishness of his own heart

I am Mary kneeling at your feet,
I am Lazarus brought to life by your mystery,
I am Martha weeping at the thought
of your sacrifice for us and submission to the cross
I am Judas, trying to get by
only giving you bits and pieces of my insufficient life

I am the crowd that came to see,
who you really were and what miracles were complete,
I am the skeptic and a sheep
You spoke for all to hear,
and you called me

Jesus, renew me
make me clean
I want to wave the palm branches and cry out to my King
Hosanna, Hosanna
Don’t let me forget
about your death
the time that you lived and died on this earth
Your resurrection soon to come,
but I will dwell on the darkness that you endured
to know the weight of your devotion
to gauge the magnitude of your wounds
to understand the capacity of your love for me

Make me to be like Mary
kneeling at your feet
“There I lay my sins and sorrows,
and, when weary, find sweet rest.
Sitting at the feet of Jesus,
there I love to weep and pray,
while I from his fullness gather grace and
comfort every day.”

Make me to be like Mary,
giving you everything I have and love,
keeping nothing from you,
resting my forehead on your anointed feet,
you have come to rise and to raise me

Make me like Mary,
kneeling at your feet