Matthew 26:38 Then he said to them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.” 39 And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.”
Purple tells the story straight-up,
blending the crimson of our life’s blood
with the blue of oxygen depletion;
a life spent, completely used.
Somewhere in the night
a heart beats for love,
not control or selfishness,
but for voluntary self-emptying;
heart that has been lanced
by human ignorance, bruised
by vested interest’s shield, shaken
by indifference’s arrhythmia.
Words have run their course,
reached the limit of their effect;
silence is broken only by
the escalating pound of percussion.
Sleep comes to the ignorant
who perceive they are innocent;
anguish washes the garden
in its agitating pallor.
Power and politics close in,
control and religion close behind;
love’s dangerous offer of vulnerability
once again proves too risky.
The donkey-propelled grand marshal
of Sunday’s palm parade has now become
the prize catch of Jerusalem’s finest,
in every sense of the word.
The life that will be taken is freely offered,
not to appease an angry deity,
but to demonstrate love’s deep recesses,
and rescue us to the path to deliverance.
© 2004 Todd Jenkins