You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire. (Matt 5:21–22)
Outside even God he would entreat
with his shirt pressed and untucked
dark jeans carefully faded on the thigh
vanity glasses rightly matching his square face
cheerful humor at the right social moment
generous to friends and strangers with and without
breaking only the smallest of commandments
and rules of engagement on the street and at work.
Inside he knew the heft of carrying like sacked concrete
his own lonesome soul, wretched and loathsome,
a prisoner yoked to his rage and anger,
the deep cavernous drip, drip of fear on stalagmites of terror
now outside God entreating him with compassion untucked,
inside peace rightly matching his wounded heart.
Edges
Lectionary 7 A
Leviticus 19:1–2, 9–18
When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest. You shall not strip your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien: I am the LORD your God. (Lev 19:9–10)
He farmed the borrowed land like an artisan
caring for nematodes and seedlings and
the soil itself, the nurse of all life.
He harvested with a jeweler’s eye each gem of food
feeding family and strangers in village mud cottages
except at the edges he left a row or two along the fence
by the road where wayfarers and immigrants
could pluck and eat and praise
just as he and all do to glorify the soil’s maker.
One night he dreamed of the future:
mechanized efficiency, vast acres of
monocultured crops and infertile soil
and he woke with a night terror when he saw
the edges were culled clean and nothing left,
no rough meal for anyone walking by needful.
Sweat and scream filled the bed at the thought,
a godless day and place where no one remembered
edges are where holiness is waiting to be revealed.
Devouring Fire
Transfiguration A
Exodus 24:12–18
Now the appearance of the glory of the LORD was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel. (Exod 24:17)
You in your holiness burn hot and wild
and we cannot even touch the fringe
like the sun we can only scuttle our ships
lest we rocket too close and get pulled in
But from time to time and place to place
you let your devouring fire flame free
and in grace it does not burn or consume us
and we can stand to be in your corona unshielded
Moses in the clouds and ocean floors undiscovered
Jesus and Elijah mountaintops and firstborns swaddled
astonishing enactments on earth of your will good and just
moments when the second hand stops and joy lingers
We would grasp you in these moments if we could
but your flames elude our fingers and palms and minds,
our categories and rules, and so you are free
from our control and we are unscorched and glad to be
Gracious Ritual of Ashes
Ash Wednesday
Joel 2:1–2, 12–17
Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; (Joel 2:12)
Mark me as one who will not outlast the earth
or the melting icebergs or even the Brooklyn Bridge
Mark me as one who will have a short skip and hop
and reach the end of the sidewalk before too long now
Mark me as one who knows well his nanometric life
and sees in this ephemeral existence a hidden holy gift
Mark me as ash and dust scattered about by artistic wind
landing on a timeless canvas, painting I know not what
Adam and Eve Again
Lent 1 A
Genesis 2:15–17, 3:1–7
Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves. (Gen 3:7)
We can gather at that coffee shop you love
and after a currant scone and a second cup
I can say to you: I’ll be Adam, and you can be Eve
and we’ll run naked through the orchard free
We can relish our innocence fresh and unaware
as we pluck berries and sit sunlit, grass on skin
discovering again what our bodies are made for
and why we love being just ourselves so
I can follow a slick snake down the unbeaten path
and you can stop and listen to his cues and queries
we can follow him to the tree of knowing
and eat and slurp the juice from our lips and chins
Then we can know and know that we know
and we can cover up and blush and hide ourselves
from our true selves, from the holy within and without
we stumble and fall, lose the gate key and walk on
Later, when grace appears and envelops us
we give thanks that we failed
and knowing we failed, we celebrate becoming,
the letting go of having been
Next morning we rise and walk out fully dressed
we gather at the café, smiling at our hidden nude selves
and I say to you: I’ll be Adam, and you can be Eve
and you nod and sip and off we go into