I Will Not Eulogize

 

I Will Not Eulogize

(“And the people were shouting, ‘The voice of a god, and not of a man!’” Acts 12:22)

I apologize; I have been
talking to myself.
I saw the advertisement about the
anointed one
coming to town. I hoped to avoid the
crowds, knowing how loud and insistent,
how proud and consistently the hype was played
on guitars and purse-strings.
But I rode in the backseat of a preacher’s
Lincoln
for reasons I will lay aside for now.

I will not eulogize; I have been
thinking for myself.
I saw the lines after the show,
wrapped around the building twice and
then again,
just to have the prophet’s hand placed on your head
to heal what wasn’t broken
and learn to soak in the personal and private
word spoken like it was god.

Before dawn the next morning the faithful
gathered for private prophecy, a token musical recording,
and banking information so the prophet could receive
your donations deposited directly. I did not care that
he told me not a hair of my head would be
harmed. I knew the grandma who went before me.
Promised long life, with her heart pried open,
she penned the number with ease and went home
coughing from her unhealed pneumonia.

And Jesus hid from the crowds. Herod wanted the masses.
The Anointed One stayed on lonely mountains.
Herod reclined at banquets in Herodium, his
palace and fortress, once the masses turned to mobs.
And Jesus walked upon the water, and Jesus’ feet touched the ground,
And Jesus opened his hands and feet and heart to
wounds
so the love would flow out.

And still Herod gets all the press.

There is a common theme; rallies political and
revivals religious,
that promote big sweat,
dire threats,
fear that remembers debts insisting on
their payment.

And still Jesus meets those who travel on
deserted and dusty roads.