Except…

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.