Passion

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.”

Passion

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