Holy Week 2020: Wednesday

[Jesus said,] “You are like whitewashed tombs, which on the outside look beautiful, but inside they are full of the bones of the dead…” (Matthew 23:27)

After saying this Jesus was troubled in spirit, and declared, “Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples looked at one another, uncertain of whom he was speaking. One of his disciples–the one whom Jesus loved–was reclining next to him; Simon Peter therefore motioned to him to ask Jesus of whom he was speaking. So while reclining next to Jesus, he asked him, “Lord, who is it?” Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.” So when he had dipped the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot. (John 13:21-26)

How might we betray you today, Jesus?

Might we eat from your dish on a holy night,
and dash from the meal to enrich ourselves,
not this time with spirit and with truth,
but this time with the thirty coins of death?

Or might we claim the role of shepherds,
offering polluted grace with unwashed hands,
ready to speak in judgement, not forgiveness,
our churches filled with dusty bones?

How might we betray you today, Jesus?
Truly we are an unimaginative people.
In nearly two millennia, we find
no more creative means to turn from you.

The artist of this image is unknown, believed to be 19th century German – Dr. Fischer Kunstauktionen, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17819714.

Holy Week 2020: Tuesday

“No one was able to give him an answer, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions.” (Matthew 22:46)

I’ve got some questions, Jesus.

When will this pandemic end?
How can I prevent it from slaying people I love?
How can I keep safe from illness myself?
How can I persuade the idiots
who know the answers to these questions
and do the opposite?
How do I manage my anger
that calls my fellow creatures, “idiots”?

Will you answer those questions, Jesus?

Admittedly, I know the answers to questions
two and three. Four I’m not so clear on.
Five I’ve had to work so hard at; so, so hard.
And one: well, does it matter, really,
just how long it lasts, as long as we
respond with deep compassion?

So are my questions answered,
leaving only this:

Will you stay with me, Jesus,
in this isolation?
Will you stay with me, Jesus,
as your friends would not do?
Will you stay with me, Jesus,
despite my budding tears?
Will you stay with me, Jesus,
whatever life or death may bring?

(And I am answered: “Yes.”)

Photo by Eric Anderson.

Holy Week 2020: Monday

It’s all right, Jesus.
You don’t have to look.
We know what’s in the Temple –
our temples, not the one
in Jerusalem –
just the same thing you saw
that overwhelmed your soul
with rage and summoned you
to drive the money changers out.

We know what’s in the temple.
The demons that will place
economy ahead of life.
The devils that will hoard
the PPEs until they get
a higher price.
The monsters who once profited
from home foreclosures now
have charge of the nation’s wealth.

You warned us, Jesus, and we…
We have learned nothing.
People will die for others’ wealth.
People will die for others’ hubris.
People will die for others’ greed.
People will die for others’ faith,
a faith you long ago rejected.
People will die, and die, and die.
For God’s sake, Jesus, drive them all away.

The image is Christ Driving the Money-Changers from the Temple by Gaetano Previati – https://www.dorotheum.com/en/auctions/current-auctions/kataloge/list-lots-detail/auktion/12991-19th-century-paintings-and-watercolours/lotID/146/lot/2337326-gaetano-previati.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=65830821.

These were my thoughts last year… Plus ca change, plus ca meme chose…

Holy Week 2019: Saturday

Tossed aside.

I’ve been used so many times,
endured the burden
of enduring agony.

Now my grain is cracked,
my edges splintering.
I cannot grasp a nail.

Tossed aside.

If I had sap to weep
I’d weep. Instead, the blood
congeals in jagged rust.

I’m not alone. The man
whose life I finished last
now lies nearby:

Tossed aside.

His brow no longer bleeds.
My sap no longer flows.
We wait alone together.

We wait a day that I can bloom.
We wait a day that he can run.
We wait a day we are no longer

Tossed aside.

Photo of ‘ohia lehua by Eric Anderson.

Holy Week 2019: Thursday

Mosaic of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet in Saint Mark’s Basilica, Venice

I’m sorry, guys, I’m not in the mood.
For a solemn celebration
I’ve got solemn down, for sure.
Celebration: not so much.

The liberation gained in ancient days
is wonderful. The trials, though,
of my own present day,
have just begun.

You can call me “Debbie Downer”
if you like. It’s fine.
If you knew what I know, well:
how about I share?

But when I share, you don’t believe,
as “It is I?” transforms to “Never me!”
As if it took a prophet’s insight
to unveil your fears.

Can we do this, just this, tonight?
Can I confess my love for you
and you, for once, accept it?
Can you confess your love for me?

Perhaps you can’t. At least
with cleaner feet you’ll sleep
while I am praying:
on cleaner feet you’ll run.

The image is a mosaic in Saint Mark’s Basilica, Venice, by Unknown – Web Gallery of Art, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15611336

Holy Week 2019: Wednesday

Judas in a detail from William Blake’s The Last Supper

Jesus said to him, “Do quickly what you are going to do.” – John 13:27 NRSV

Take some bread. I’ve dipped it for you.
Take some soul. I’ve offered it to you.

Take some hope. I’ll give you all I have.
Take some wine. I’ll pour it out.

But no, you want my life.
Take my life, then. I’ve given it for you.

Do quickly what you are going to do.

The image is a detail from William Blake’s The Last Supper (1799) – The William Blake Archive, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=33553430

Holy Week 2019: Tuesday

Man of Sorrows by
Władysław Skoczylas

“He made my mouth like a sharp sword,
in the shadow of his hand he hid me;
he made me a polished arrow,
in his quiver he hid me away.”
– Isaiah 49:2

Ah, Jerusalem, feel my cutting words!
Ah, priests and scribes, feel my penetrating points!
Ah, you who stand for God:
I wait no longer in the shadow. I speak. I fly.

Image by Władysław Skoczylas – http://www.pinakoteka.zascianek.pl/Skoczylas/Index.htm, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1743821