It Might Take a Choir

 

It Might Take a Choir

(“Now it was Mary who anointed the Lord with perfumed oil and wiped his feet dry with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick.” John 11:2)

It might take a choir to
inspire any words today.
I am happy that Mary wiped Jesus’ feet,
but everything feels incomplete.

Even still, I have nothing to prove,
nothing less to lose.

So, I’ll write what I wonder,
ask the questions that pain begs to be asked,
scratch my head over churches teaching
the U.S. constitution and
forgetting the beatitudes.

I am sorry, have I said to much?
Did I offend you again?
I’m not sure where to begin,
but I hope we don’t run out of perfume soon
because we need Mary again to fill the room
with the fragrance of love.

It might take a symphony to
awaken my heart again.
I am happy that Mary wept at Jesus’ feet,
I am happy she was so indiscrete
without studying the demographics or plotting it
all on a spreadsheet. She perfumed the room.

I still have too many questions, I wonder where the
love has gone.
We fight for second amendments, we want all
the firepower we can muster.
It is unlikely we will every connect the dots between
the Prince of Peace
and projectiles aimed at human flesh.
I do not think Mary had a concealed carry permit.

I might be wrong. It might take a sonnet or song
to move me close again.
I am happy that Mary was unguarded;
I have been half-hearted and recently a
man of constant sorrow. Perhaps Mary
will show up again,
and we can see close-up again
the love that leaves us defenseless
before the man who teaches us,
who befriends us
even before the music begins.