Stop Reading My Mind, Jesus

No! I wasn’t thinking that! Get out of my head, Jesus!

“Physician, cure yourself”? No: I didn’t think that,
at least I didn’t if you judge quite narrowly.
I might have thought – just might, you know –
that here you are, enlisting me
to help redeem the world, and who, I want to know,
was left in charge, and left so great a mess!

No! I wasn’t thinking that! Get out of my head, Jesus!

“Do here the things you did in other places”? No,
or well, perhaps. OK, I thought it. There. So there.
But who would not consider such a question, when
the days build on from days, absent miracle,
filled with suffering, maladies, and pain.
So yes, I’d like to see the wonders others have.

No! I wasn’t thinking that! Get out of my head, Jesus!

I’ll honor you, for sure. My home town is not Nazareth,
so you are not the local wonder, raised from penury
to power. You are not one I’ve known for years,
a face familiar to me as the mirror’s gaze.
Except, of course, you are: Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,
hamstrung for my comfort’s sake.

Stop reading my mind, Jesus, or I’ll bring you to the edge of my cliff.

A poem/prayer based on Luke 4:21-30, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel reading for Year C, 4th Sunday after the Epiphany.

Photo by Eric Anderson.

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