Christ

I’ve Got to Know

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 3 Comments
A mosaic of a bearded figure with a halo behind bars, flanked by armed men.

“When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?'” – Matthew 11:2-3

John, there you are, imprisoned by a king
whom you had castigated for a sexual misdeed
and took it badly. Beyond the stony walls,
you hear, another speaks your word: “Repent!”

“The realm of God is near!”

You know this one. You baptized him despite
your protests that he should have baptized you.
The water has flowed on beneath the bridge,
incarcerating you and prompting him to speak:

“The realm of God is near!”

I’m with you, John, if not behind those iron bars,
I’m with you in the need to know: “Are you the One?”…
and I believe he is the One, and preach that faith as truth!
There is no faith without anxiety, for me as well as you.

“The realm of God is near!”

You said, “I’ve got to know,” and John, I hope you knew
to hear about the healing and the good news for the poor.
It’s what I hang my hope on, and my faith,
and why I trust in God’s eternal love.

“The realm of God is near!”

You know, I hope, wherever you may be today
your faith and hope and trust moved in the world
alive and powerful and merciful. And I will trust,
like you, that our Anointed One still lives.

“The realm of God is near!”

A poem/prayer based on Matthew 11:2-11, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year A, Third Sunday of Advent.

The image is The Imprisonment of John the Baptist, one of the mosaics in the Baptistery of Saint John, Florence, Italy, unknown artist (early 1300s). Photo by Sailko – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=41892074.

Shoot of Jesse

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 2 Comments

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse,
    and a branch shall grow out of his roots.
The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him,
    the spirit of wisdom and understanding,
    the spirit of counsel and might,
    the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.

Isaiah 11:1-2

I hate to break it to you, Isaiah.
But then, perhaps you know already.
You saw it, after all, in Hezekiah,
who trusted in the word of God
and watched the army of Assyria
retreat from Jerusalem’s walls,
but then succumbed to royal pride
and showed his wealth to greedy eyes.

These shoots of Jesse had their moments, true,
the worst had flashes of your wisdom. But
they let the widows cry for justice,
let the orphans cry for food, while they
enriched the wealthy, fed the full.
The best of them, like Hezekiah, fell
afoul of hubris like their ancestors before.

And then, Isaiah, came a child anointed
by the Holy Spirit, who embraced your words,
declared they’d been fulfilled, and best of all
with mercy, stories, grace, and healing brought
them to fulfillment. You would have cheered
to see this shoot of Jesse blossom and bear fruit.

You would have cheered to see the fishermen,
the shepherds and the farmers, even tax
collectors, daughters of Jerusalem,
embark on journeys up and down the land
to seek his healing and his word.

They cheered to see the lepers cleansed.
They told his stories to their neighbors with
excitement and enthusiasm. They affirmed
a humble man from Galilee as Christ.

They could not save him, though, Isaiah,
from the fear and might of powerful men.
They seized him and they beat him.

They called him rebel, and they nailed him to a tree,
and jeered to see him suffer there and die.

Isaiah, human folly is enough to break your heart.

A poem/prayer based on Isaiah 11:1-10, the Revised Common Lectionary First Reading for Year A, Second Sunday of Advent.

Photo of a fern shoot by Eric Anderson.

Save Yourself

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 2 Comments

And the people stood by watching, but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” – Luke 23:35

I sometimes ache for your pain, O Savior,
tortured there upon the cross,
and I, without the mocking, echo those
cruel words of long ago, and urge you, “Save yourself!”

But when I do, you hold me close
with misted eyes. My lips go silent, as
I strain to hear your soft reply:
“Instead, I will save you.”

A poem/prayer based on Luke 23:33-43, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year C, Reign of Christ, Proper 29 (34).

The image is Crucifixion with Darkened Sun by Egon Schiele (1907) – Unknown source, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5105294.

Concerned

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 3 Comments

“And Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, what concern is that to me and to you? My hour has not yet come.'” – John 2:4

Now if I take a bird’s eye view of the world,
or if I try to see the Universe as from
the eye of its Creator, I have to ask,
What concern are we to You?

“What are humans that you are mindful of them,
mortals that you care for them?”

Other folk of other faiths discerned
their deities to be… not unconcerned,
but distant, focused on their own affairs,
but pleased by scent of sacrifice.

So when the hosts ran out of wine
what person would not ask, “Are we
concerned? We brought our contributions
to the feast. What more can we do now?”

How many deities would ask,
“What prayer is this? Do I make up
your deficits, the failures in your plans?
Take care of it yourselves, as you can do.”

As deity, as human being,
what else could Jesus say but this:
“This is not our concern. The things
I have to do come later and much larger.”

A mother’s love is such a funny thing.
One moment she protects her child
from senseless obligation, then the next
she thrusts them forward: “Go on, give.”

He said that they were not concerned,
but his mother thrust him forth,
and then he was concerned. They filled
the jars. They served the wondrous wine.

Was he concerned? He was, for host’s
embarrassment, but more for human souls
who languish in uncertainty and fright,
to lead them to a life beyond imagining.

“What are humans that you are mindful of them?” Still
we cannot fully clarify the poet’s ancient cry,
except to say, that Jesus is concerned, God is concerned,
the Holy Spirit is concerned:

For us.

A poem/prayer based on John 2:1-11, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year C, Second Sunday of the Epiphany.

The illustration is from JESUS MAFA. The Wedding at Cana, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48305 [retrieved January 17, 2025]. Original source: http://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr (contact page: https://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr/contact).