There has been much discussion recently among my Dearly Beloved's and my circle of friends and acquaintances at our local Uniting Church congregation about a recent article in Crosslight, in which biblical scholar Marcus Borg talked about the need not to get lost in debates about whether or not the Resurrection "actually" happened, and instead to focus upon what this means for where the living Christ meets us in our lives.
I'm not going to enter into that debate right now, but I must say that Christ meeting us in our lives has been a theme much on my mind lately, heightened by the recent occurrence of Holy Week. And I guess that must have been playing on my subconscious a bit, because I've just woken up and scribbled the following lines:
The Living Christ Meets Us Here
In spirit -
in the small, secret space
where knowledge ends
and faith begins -
my Lord comes to me
clothed in death:
triumphant
living.
In flesh -
the fragile, breathing clay
where shadows sing
and darkness speaks -
my Lord comes to me
clothed in grief:
triumphant
healing.
In death -
the narrow, barren vale
where all hope ends
and prayers fail -
my Lord comes to me
clothed in regret:
triumphant
gloried.
In life -
the crowded, riven plain
where fear and fortune fight
and comfort bleeds -
my Lord comes to me
clothed in strife:
triumphant
peace.
In silence -
the open, boundless place
where mind and matter meet
and joy prevails -
my Lord comes to me
clothed in sound:
triumphant
singing.
Not great poetry, I agree, but perhaps indicative of my deeper thoughts on the subject of where, and how, and the sometimes paradoxical paradigms in which Christ comes to us in our lives.
Talk to you soon,
BB
Quote of the Day: We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. (Romans 6:9 - NRSV)
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