righteousness

Promise Unfulfilled…?

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 3 Comments

But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. – Jeremiah 31:33

Of all the promises you’ve made, O God,
through human speech of ancient poets, this
I wait for most expectantly. Oh when, I ask,
will human hearts be oriented to your will?

From Jeremiah’s day to this, I do not see
a sudden change in human righteousness.
Not even Jesus’ resurrection prompted us
to set aside our greedy lust for power,

Our tolerance for prejudice,
enshrining it in law that breaks the Law
I yearn to feel a-written on my heart.
How bright would be the dawn of such a day!

But God, I fear that knowledge of your law
within the heart would do no better than
to write it on papyrus, paper, wood, or stone.
We learn it, and we know it, and we break it.

So did you, have you, written on our hearts,
and did we find a way to curtain it away,
as centuries of Christians have ignored
the Savior’s last command to love?

I tremble that this promise is fulfilled.

A poem/prayer based on Jeremiah 31:31-34, the Revised Common Lectionary First Reading for Year B, Fifth Sunday in Lent.

The image is Cry of prophet Jeremiah on the Ruins of Jerusalem by Ilya Repin – http://www.art-catalog.ru/picture.php?id_picture=11437, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3257688

Weighed Down

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 2 Comments

“Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.” – Ephesians 6:11

“Saul clothed David with his armor; he put a bronze helmet on his head and clothed him with a coat of mail. David strapped Saul’s sword over the armor, and he tried in vain to walk, for he was not used to them. Then David said to Saul, ‘I cannot walk with these; for I am not used to them.’ So David removed them.” – 1 Samuel 17:38-39

Truth? You want me to wear truth?
That’s a heavy burden to carry on the belt.
My hips are groaning just to think
of carrying the truth. I cannot walk with these.

Righteousness? You want me to wear righteousness,
to face the world with generosity presented
as my face? I can’t imagine feeling any more
vulnerable than that. I cannot walk with these.

Faith? You want me to bear faith?
I tell that, as bucklers go, faith wears a little thin.
The barbed and flaming arrows pierce it through
even as I strain to lift it. No; I cannot walk with these.

Salvation? You want me to wear salvation?
This one sounds good, I grant you, but it bows the head.
I’d rather revel in my sovereignty than yours,
which makes me bow. I cannot walk with these.

The hardest of all to wear are the shoes
that make me ready to proclaim the gospel of peace.
Where might they take me? Into what risks?
And what protection do they offer? None.

No and no and no. I cannot walk with these.

And yet… I try.

A poem/prayer based on Ephesians 6:10-20, the Revised Common Lectionary Second Reading for Year B, Proper 16 (21).

The image is Philistine Shields and Spears from The pictorial Bible and commentator: presenting the great truths of God’s word in the most simple, pleasing, affectionate, and instructive manner, by Ingram Cobbin, Daniel March, L. P. Brockett, and Hesba Stretton. Image obtained through the Internet Archive Book Images – https://www.flickr.com/photos/internetarchivebookimages/14763830682/ Source book page: https://archive.org/stream/pictorialbibleco00cobb/pictorialbibleco00cobb#page/n301/mode/1up, No restrictions, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=43907449.

Except…

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / Leave a comment

Oh, yes. I see. Yes, this could work.

You see us here, all level on the plain,
and You, Yourself, are standing right with us.
You stand no higher than the lowest one,
and You look up to none.

Imagination strains, for sure, to see a world
that looks like this imagined plain,
a world where no one stands upon my toes
and claws my shoulders to step on my head.

And yes, You’re right to tell us how this comes about:
Abandon hate, do good to those who harm, bless those
who offer curses, pray for those who concentrate their power.
For certain, any violence we offer them will fail.

Far, far a surer thing to shame them, Jesus, yes.
They think, they say, believe they’re in the right
to pay so little for a day of labor, make us choose
between a tank of gas and visiting a doctor.

They’re wrong, but in their sense of righteousness is this:
They have a sense of shame. When we refrain
from violence, they pause, at least, and think.
“Am I so clearly in the right?”

Yes, Jesus, this could work.
Except… It… Almost… Works.
Come, Savior.
Your people need Your love.

A poem/prayer based on Luke 6:27-38, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel reading for Year C, 7th Sunday after the Epiphany.

Photo by Eric Anderson.