He Dwelt on an Island

He Dwelt on an Island

(“But the path of the just is like shining light, that grows in brilliance till perfect day.” Proverbs 4:18)

He was exiled to his own hometown,
disabled and circling the days like an understudy.
At night the northern lights,
he said,
found ways to illustrate the canvas skies.
And morning brought approaching storms that
pushed the Columbian white-tails from the tree stands
to the meadow. The grazed in slow motion. A young doe
with a dappled flank was part fir tree and part willow.
She waited the passing of the thunder until
the sun moved her home inside the forest shadows.

He dwelt on an island,
or so they thought,
surrounded by nothing but sand that brought
every anxious moment to dock so close to his porch
there was little room for conversation.

It was a puzzle that they did not see the bridges
that connected him, you, and me. It was a mystery.
And like most magic, their eyes were averted from
anything they could not explain. He once had walked
down the center of town. He once owned the airwaves,
he once sat with princes and sang with jazz quartets.

He did not choose this solitary. He did not move away at all.
He lived as close as he ever had, within walking distance
from those that once shook his hand.

Some days it darkened him. Some days he believed his
isolation.
But when the clouds moved on, when the does and the fawn
tiptoed past his door,
he knew the light had never left, nor could it. The light
had been left on. The light was all that left him
completely
undone.

Raining Down in Pieces

Raining Down in Pieces

(“You have heard the desire of oppressed people, O Lord. You encourage them. You pay close attention to them.” Psalm 10:17)

I’m raining down in pieces,
pellets that hit the sizzling ground and
are gone before anyone notices.
Today was tiny and massive,
today was storm clouds and placid
hopes
that someone, (you know who you are)
would walk through my door, see the empty eyes
I hide from everyone,
and fill them with the kind of quiet that
embraces everything.

Perhaps we could busk down by the river,
next to the brewery,
late in the afternoon. But I would stall,
I am out of practice, and nothing comes easy
at all.

I’m opening the puzzle,
pieces that used to fit but now, edges worn,
are more or less fragments. The picture on the box
was colored over decades ago by children with nothing
else to do.
I never minded. Children were always the ones
who taught me the tunes I almost had forgotten.

I slide the pieces back into the box and a dozen fall
on the floor below the table. I’m tempted to leave them
there.

Perhaps we could play chess at the coffee shop;
I haven’t played in ages. I fear I would have to concede before
we were halfway done. We could leave the board set up,
I guess,
but I don’t know when you’ll be back and when I’ll wander
downtown again.

I’d venture out, meet someone new, but, like I said,
I’m raining down in pieces,
and can only be seen these days by someone who
sees me these days the
way I am.

The Resurrection Puzzle

The Resurrection Puzzle

“They puzzled over that, wondering what on earth ‘rising from the dead’ meant.” Mark 9:10 (The Message)

Jesus had taken three disciples, Peter, James, and John up a high mountain. While they were with Him, his appearance changed, before their eyes. They saw the glory of God’s kingdom as even Jesus’ clothes shimmered, sparkling white, far whiter than any bleach could make them. While the disciples rubbed their eyes, mumbled without knowing what to say, Elijah and Moses appeared, talking with Jesus.

Peter blurted out, “Let’s build some shelters, quick! Three of them; one for You, Jesus and one for Moses, one for Elijah.” He actually had no idea what to say.

It all happened right before their eyes. This was no hallucination; the three disciples experience the same thing and heard the same words from God: “This is my Son, marked by my love. Listen to him.” (Mark 9:7) And then, as quickly as it had happened, it was over. The three men and Jesus stood alone high upon the mountain.

It is on the descent back that Jesus asked them to keep quiet about the experience. “Don’t tell a soul what you saw. After I rise from the dead, you’re free to talk.” Jesus was always cautious not to incite overly excitable crowds to try to crown Him an earthly king, or to revolt against the current rulers. But this is when the disciples really scratch their heads.

They believed in the rising from the dead, the just didn’t believe the Messiah would have to suffer and die. It is easy to forget that the first requirement for resurrection is death. Wouldn’t it be better if the Messiah appeared in kingly glory, marched right into Jerusalem and pulled the throne right out from under Herod, the present Jewish king?

Things weren’t much different then than they are now. Certainly Jesus could have whipped the crowds into a unified frenzy. Calling for Jerusalem to be inhabited only by Jews from now on, you could hear the crowd’s applause. “Believe me”, they hoped He would say, “We’re going to tear down the current scheme of things. Those career Pharisees and Sadducees need to be brought down to size!” Oh how Jesus could have played on mob mentality and led a revolt against the corrupt Jewish King and the ungodly occupying regime in Rome.

But Jesus would have none of that. This is a big reason the three disciples were so puzzled when Jesus talked about “rising from the dead.” Unfortunately, even his crucifixion, death and resurrection were not enough to rid the disciples of their desire for a political victory. Forty days after His resurrection, after spending time with them, and instructing them, Jesus prepares to ascend back to the Father.

Together for the last time the disciples ask, “Master, are you going to restore the kingdom of Israel now? Is this the time?”

“You don’t get to know the time,” Jesus responded. “That’s the Father’s business. What you’ll get is the Holy Spirit.” (Acts 1:6-8)

Eventually the disciples understood and began to share the Good News across the land. Though persecuted, sometimes imprisoned by their own people, other times attacked by Roman rulers, they continued to talk about Jesus who rose from the dead. They did not try to overthrow the current regimes because they were now members of a brand new kingdom: The Kingdom of God.

Is it possible we miss the same boat? Are we just as mistaken about how Jesus the Messiah runs His kingdom as they were? When Jesus rose from the dead, He did not summon His followers to march into Jerusalem to take down the government. Instead, He spent six weeks teaching His followers about the New Kingdom, exponentially different than any kingdoms on earth.

He pleads with us today, in the same way He did then. To state it as simply as possible, there are two primary “rules” of Jesus’ kingdom. Rule #1. Love God first, with every part of your being. Rule #2 is like it; Love your neighbor as yourself.

Stop and think about everything people are arguing about in today’s political environment. If you want to be a Jesus-follower, run every “cause” through these two filters, 1. Does this sound like truly loving God with all my being. 2. Does this sound like loving my neighbor as I love myself?

If anything, the resurrection of Jesus Christ demands we consider these questions. Come, Holy Spirit, create a new resolve among your people to love our God first and always, and to be known as people who sincerely love our neighbors, no matter their background. That is the way God’s Kingdom works!