Jesus

Aren’t You?

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 4 Comments

“[Jesus said,] Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory.” – Luke 21:27

I’m looking, Jesus.
I’m looking for those terrible disasters.
I’m looking for the sun-signs, moon-signs, star-signs.
Where is the earth distressed?
Where are the nations fuddled by the roaring of the seas?

I’m looking, Jesus,
and I’m finding all those terrible disasters.
The sun burns warmer on the sands than once it did.
Distressed, the earth would wrap itself in coolness,
water rising, inundating coastlines of both continents and islands.

I’m looking, Jesus:
where to find you?
The clouds still float along without your figure
stepping down to earth in glory and in power.
Where are you, Jesus, when the seas are salt with tears?

I’m looking, Jesus,
as disciples have been looking
for two thousand years, to see the reign of God
in light and thunderclaps and incense-scented wonder, but…
You’re just behind my shoulder, aren’t you?

A poem/prayer based on Luke 21:25-36, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year C, First Sunday of Advent.

The image is Christ Appears to Two Apostles in Emmaus by Duccio di Buoninsegna – The Yorck Project (2002) 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei (DVD-ROM), distributed by DIRECTMEDIA Publishing GmbH. ISBN: 3936122202., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3799693.

That’s Asking a Lot, Jesus

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 2 Comments

[Jesus said,] “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” – John 6:51

I, well…. Jesus, I do not approve.

The metaphor is… gross.
For me, the living bread
is molding in the back
of my refrigerator.
Whoever eats that bread
may never die because
the penicillin analogues
within it will suffice
to sweep the viruses
and bacilli away.

The metaphor is gross.
Not stopping there, you up
the stakes, from moldy bread
(OK, my imagery) to feast
of cannibals (and that,
my Savior, is entirely on you).
Though not quite two
millennia have passed
with broken bread/Christ’s body,
it’s still a foul thing to say.

The metaphor is gross,
not just for what it pictures,
but for what it then demands.
Your flesh, our bread? Then you
are what sustains, on you
we must rely, in you we find
our nourishment, in you
we live our life. No wonder they
protested, knowing that you claimed
the place and power of God.

The metaphor is gross,
the message so demanding, that
despite my many years of faith,
despite my years of leadership
within the Church, the gathering
we grossly call your body, I
still hesitate, still wonder: Can
a human body really mediate
for God? Oh, I believe,
but help, I pray, my unbelief.

A poem/prayer based on John 6:51-58, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year B, Proper 15 (20).

The image is Feeding the Multitude by Daniel of Uranc (1433) – photograph by Michel Bakni, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=98280902.

You Want to Know Where I’m Staying?

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 1 Comment

Well, no. I don’t.
Well actually I do. Because it’s heaven, right?
But no. Not now. It doesn’t really matter because
what I really want to know is:

Who you are.

He said to them, “Come and see.” (John 1:39a)

A poem/prayer based on John 1:29-42, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel reading for Year A, Second Sunday after Epiphany.

The image is The Calling of Saints Peter and Andrew by Caravaggio – Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1734712.