I shared this poem during the Sunday service on August 3, and a few folks asked if they could see the words, so I offer it again here for them and for others who may have missed it.
Many of us are familiar with this diagram to illustrate how Christ's cross bridges the gap between a holy God and sinful humanity:
But I always wondered what happens when you get half way across and the sticky-up part of the cross gets in the way:
So I wrote this poem as a reflection on what happens after the first easy steps of faith have been taken and the hard work of discipleship begins.
Challenge Wall Trust Fall
they made it sound so simple
God loves you and has a perfect plan and
Jesus is the drawbridge across the chasm caused by
the serpent’s seduction Eve’s advice and Adam’s avarice a
group production producing prodigal progeny perpetually
digging deeper our original ditch now bridged by Christ’s cross
consult this handy dandy diagram designed to
simplify stepping out saying sorry for sins
accepting access to amazing grace granted freely not
cheaply cheating death at Christ’s cost a
bargain bridge bathed in blood but pamphlets and pious peer pressure render this
ransom rather abstract in four-act tracts and altar call asks that
mask the Great Commission’s complete mission to
make disciples who obey and imitate incarnate
beatitude blessings for poor persecuted peacemakers to
turn cheeks turn tables with confronting love for enemies invited to
eat a feast of flesh and blood found offensive by
former followers anticipating easy answers and imperial agendas
not unlike evangelicals’ electoral ambitions
countless crusades for crass
causes occasionally compassionate for cute kids and cameras but
consistently committed to capital and co-opted by Capitol access
crossing land and sea to capture converts quickly confused by
culturally conditioned corruptions of Christ’s call to
count the cost
take up the cross
when crossing the chasm starting steps stay steady but
get ready halfway to heaven there’s a hell of a hill when
you hit the wall the tall order of Christ’s call to walk his way WWJ
wage war not with the world’s weapons but
by bearing your cross even
to crucifixion a
stumbling stick to victory-addicted Dick Cheney ditto-heads
skipping Lent for Fat Tuesday feasts every week while
waiving Kingdom requirements of daily disciplines beyond
cute quiet time-out bouts of devotional dentifrice daily brushing up
your “personal relationship” weird words to
describe Bible-browsing and whispered wish lists let’s
lose language that’s misleading lest less enlightened acolytes lose
their sincerity out of insecurity and inferiority complexes
contemplative complexions faking feelings to
seem super-spiritual wanting to worship backward for how it makes you feel
flogging in-your-face inflated ego-stroking ear-candy standards
straining to hear the Spirit in spite of pseudo-soft-rock stars’ saccharine sentiment
this is the air I breathe and
I—I’m desperate for you to
drop this dumbed-down drippiness my giddiness better inspired by
the dizzy height when I climb to the crux when I
survey the wondrous cross
count riches loss pour contempt on pride forbidden to
boast in vain things that charm me most
check my motives make others’ comfort my concern
make Christ the center not myself
make his members my mentors
contending with tensions extending despite attempted dissections and
shared dissentions athletic alignments and amistad actions
advances and retreats to reduce our defenses against friendship
forged in intimate awkwardness washing feet
feasting on philos found in food and fraternal foibles boyish barriers lowered by
bacon and basketball and boisterous bets whether
poker is a proper part of proselytizing perhaps not publicly but
even orthopraxy provides permissiveness as long as the
liabilities of license’s lusts are limited without legalism’s cannibalism
can we cross the chasm climb this cross-post challenge wall while
working in one accord ropes-course-style stretching and straining to
boost our brethren the fingers of our family of fellowship gripping
grasping gasping pushing pulling us
over the top cradled by community to reach out in unity not
cocooned in conformity save in the cross of Christ our God at
times a weary road we trod and bitter the chastening rod but
better dead than led astray by smooth-tongued tricksters trading in
itching ear theories of health wealth or whatever you want to hear from
here to Armageddon rapture riddles refreshed every election to
make you hate the scapegoat of the season call it treason to
love the enemy
welcome the stranger
heal the sick without making money an
unfunny farce to force-feed creeds out of context
proof-texting terrorists seek constitutional commandments
recommended to make myopic measures of immorality merit immolation one
nation under God but
run by bullies who give Christ a bad name according
to international evangelical cousins bearing our
curse no small burden with the bridges we’ve burned but
Christ’s call is still a free-for-all and
the chasm can be crossed just
count the cost
an arm and a leg and your life laid down like the Lamb
little children let us love not in locution but in location and
incarnation’s vocation for truth in action a reaction that reassures our hearts
when doubts condemn us
God is greater and knows better
his commandment to believe him and love each other like Christ’s wife
aka the church which is also his body the metaphors mix but
the substance stands fixed:
a span stretched from God to humanity
perfectly planned but pricey
it takes a community both
in infinite Trinity and in Christian finity to form our family for eternity
join the party it’s no picnic skip the gimmicks don’t
mimic academic tricks and stick figure schticks trash the tracts just
trust the love lavished deep and wide across the divide and
abide as Christ’s bride made beautiful for the wedding banquet because
Jesus is our husband not our boyfriend but better
get ready to work once the wedding is over when
marriage makes us martyrs
no not al Qaeda’s kamikazi killers
more likely domestically task-distracted guilt-mongerers like
Martha Martha Martha worried by many things wanting
help with housework complaining to Christ who
would not take the better part from the sister seated at his feet
more like Mother Mary’s submission impossible to the angel Gabriel:
“here am I
let it be with me according to your word” wisdom words of
wisdom a witness whispered in wonder a
Magnificat manifesto
the Mighty One has done great things for me
scattered the proud
lifted the lowly
filled the hungry
and the wealthy should consider themselves luckier than the flaming failure in
the Rich Man and Lazarus if the worst thing that happens is a tax hike
hell hath no fury worse than Godless eternity across the chasm
fixed between greedy goats and meek not weak sheep led by
a sharp-tongued Lamb whose word is a sword that destroys strongholds puts
princes in their place and laughs at nation-states so
stop worrying about what you’ll eat or drink or drive your
hairs are counted if uncombed from your Babylon bed-head so
ready set go wake up get up stand up
start careening across this crazy cross-shaped balance beam lean
neither too far right nor left leap
that steep stump of a steeple with help from your people and find yourself
falling across the It Is Finished line into the Everlasting Arms
that reach across the breach at the last gasp to catch your sorry
behind crash landing leaning leaning leaning
in the Everlasting Arms
