The road I’m looking to walk,
run, and dance down
every day,
is somewhere between
“raising the physically dead
is all that matters” and
“spiritualized pie in the sky.”
THAT’s the authentic place
I want us all to find;
the place where
a sprinkling of water,
Gospel, prayers, questions,
presence/relationship, Sacrament
are imbued with transfiguring hope,
even in the ICU.
It is not the brief, glitzy flash
of Fourth-of-July fireworks,
but the steady percussion
of Grace’s heartbeat that flickers
and sounds in the depths of our being
long after the tubes and wires
of technology have signaled
that death has arrived.
It’s promise whose not-yetness
holds the tension of
“How long, O Lord?” and “Possibility.”
© 2012 Todd Jenkins
No comments:
Post a Comment