Post-Parting Gift

Photo by Ben Padgett

John said it was for fear of the Jews

that we were on lock-down

but, truth be told, it was more

a fear of anyone who could possibly

suck any more air out of

our room, our house, our lives.

  When Jesus showed up unannounced –

  or apparated – we were

  initially as afraid of him

  as we were of the High Priest.

    We had, after all, abandoned him

    in his hour of need, fearing even

    getting too close to the Hill of the Skull,

    afraid our own heads might also roll.

  Then he got all "Peace out!" with us;

  it was quite surreal, seeing

  how real and fresh his wounds were,

  yet feeling the integrity of his love

  for all of us as even more real and refreshing.

  

And his breathing on us;

you have no idea how much

we needed that; how deflated

we had become; how desperately

we needed the breath of life

to inspire us once more.

  "Peace" was what we were sure

  we needed, more than anything else.

    His breath was more than life;

    it felt like he put himself

    into each one of us in a way

    he'd never done before;

    like he was going to be

    with us from now on.

  But he didn't stop there.

  He dealt forgiveness

  like it was on the discount rack

  at the local market.

"Forgive them" he said,

without the usual caveats;

no mention of whether

they deserve it or if

they've asked for it or

even if they think they need

to be forgiven.

  Just "Forgive them and

  they'll be forgiven."

  Then he flashed the other side

  of the coin, "Retain the sins

  of others and they'll be retained."

We didn't even have to ask

by whom they'd be retained.

Each of us could remember

all too well the net-full of wrongs

we'd drug around for far too long;

how those holding-ons

had stunk to high heaven,

like week-old fish, and

how heavy they'd become,

piling up one after another.

  We'd all drunk the poison

  of our vengeance, somehow

  expecting someone else to fall ill,

  but always it was each of us –

  the ones holding onto hurt and anger –

  who were eaten away from the inside.

  

    It was those three –

    his post-parting gifts

    that he left with us:

    peace, his very own spirit,

    and forgiveness.

  And we are the ones who get

  to share these; to pass them on

  every day, with all the people

  who cross our paths.

We are church –

the called-out ones –

who get to break the bread,

pour the cup,

and share grace like it's

a blue-light special

at the corner store,

because it is.

© 2016 Todd Jenkins