a different path

I don't want to read the Bible
I don't want to study the countless theology books that fill my shelves
I don't want to debate the theory and ideals
I don't want to listen to the sermons
I don't want to sing the anthems
of those who betray me

I do not want to sound like them
I do not want to think like them
I do not want to live like them
I want to forget them
and their god

I want to walk away
from all that they believe
I want to run far
from the god they represent
I will never be like them
I would rather die

Months pass
wounds heal
though scars remain
and I kneel to pick up a dusty book
I once read night and day

The days come and go
leaves turn and fall
the snow comes
the ground is hard and cold
and I remember

I remember their kind touch upon my shoulder
I remember their gentle words of hope
I remember days
I close my eyes
I do not want to remember anymore

I open my Bible once more
I beg of the Crucified One
to let me forget
let me disappear
until the spring comes, until the snow thaws, until the beauty returns

I turn beloved pages once more
and tears fall
and I pray
that the Heartbeat of the One who spoke the blood-stained words
would pulse through my heart, so dead and cold
that I would not merely read and use these words
like the others
but that they would crucify me, bury me, breathe on me, hold me fast to the Pierced Heart
of the One who died and lives and speaks them still
I do not want to select words and piece them together and contrive a god from paper and ink
I want to know the God who still parts seas and makes blind men see
I want to know the God who still speaks to those who believe
I want to know the Resurrected One
I want to believe
that He would resurrect me
oh, leave me not beneath the hard earth and cold snows always awaiting spring!

I don't want to merely read the Bible
I don't want to merely study the countless theology books that fill my shelves
I don't want to merely debate the theory and ideals
I don't want to merely listen to the sermons
I don't want to merely sing the anthems
of those who betray the Crucified One
I don't want to be one who crucifies Him still

I want to live
I want to know
I want to be
I want to hear
I want to shout, dance to
I want to be clothed in
consumed by
the blood-stained words
of the One they crucify

I close my Bible
I gently wipe the dust from its cover
then I walk away
because He has not finished
He has not finished loving
He has not finished speaking
He has not finished writing

"Now I am going to him who sent me, yet none of you asks me, 'Where are you going?' Because I have said these things, you are filled with grief. But I tell you the truth: It is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. When he comes, he will convict the world of guilt in regard to sin and righteousness and judgment: in regard to sin, because men do not believe in me; in regard to righteousness, because I am going to the Father, where you can see me no longer; and in regard to judgment, because the prince of this world now stands condemned. I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear. But when he, the Spirit of truth, comes, he will guide you into all truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come."
-John 16:5-13

the wide path

I used to walk with the crowds
I used to join them in beautiful buildings, homes, even outdoor gatherings
to sing beautiful songs
to hold hands and pray beautiful prayers

Yes, I know the grasp of a friend's hand upon my own
I know the comfort of a friend's prayers
I know the gentle kindness of a friend's voice
I know what it is to be loved
I know what it is to love
and then see the joy in my friend's face when they see me

I used to walk with friends
I used to be called "friend"
I was not always this way
I was not always unlovable, broken, empty, so dead inside

But one day as I was walking with my friends
I noticed someone by the wayside
he was alone
he had no friends
no one reached out to take his hand and I wanted to
no one stopped and knelt to pray with him and it brought me to my knees
I heard mocking, cruel voices as I knelt there with him and tried to speak a kind word
but I was speechless as he lay there in the dirt
I was speechless so I just knelt there beside him
and watched my friends' faces as they turned and left

Yes, I once knew the grasp of a friend's hand upon my own
I knew the comfort of a friend's prayers
I knew the gentle kindness of a friend's voice
I knew what it was to be loved
and to love
then see the joy in my friends' faces when they welcomed me, embraced me, looked for me

But I no longer walk with the crowds
and they no longer look for me
they avoid me, walk past me, mock me
now I am unlovable

Was it all worth it?
now I lay here by the wayside
filthy, bleeding, unrecognizable
now I lay here in disguise
seeing the truth of their hearts
the truth of our "friendship"
the truth of their false love
the truth of all that I once called "beautiful"
and was it all worth it?

Was it worth it to stop
and kneel down
and lose my beauty, my love, my dreams
to love one?
was it worth it to become unlovable that the unlovable might know love?
was it worth it to love him?

Perhaps you will never know
the look upon his face when I knelt beside him
perhaps you will never see
the scars in the hands that I took in mine
they were made by nails and a hammer and sinful, wicked, hateful men
perhaps you will never realize
that it was Jesus I chose
that it was Jesus I saw
that it was Jesus who was beside me
that it was Jesus I loved

It was worth it

Who has believed what he has heard from us?
And to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed?
For he grew up before him like a young plant,
and like a root out of dry ground;
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
and no beauty that we should desire him.
He was despised and rejected by men;
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
yet he opened not his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
so he opened not his mouth.
By oppression and judgment he was taken away;
and as for his generation, who considered
that he was cut off out of the land of the living,
stricken for the transgression of my people?
And they made his grave with the wicked
and with a rich man in his death,
although he had done no violence,
and there was no deceit in his mouth.

Yet it was the will of the LORD to crush him;
he has put him to grief;
when his soul makes an offering for guilt,
he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;
the will of the LORD shall prosper in his hand.
Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;
by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
make many to be accounted righteous,
and he shall bear their iniquities.
Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many,
and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,
because he poured out his soul to death
and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet he bore the sin of many,
and makes intercession for the transgressors.
-Isaiah 53


"Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.' Then they also will answer, saying, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?' Then he will answer them, saying, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.' And these will go away into eternal punishment..."
-Matthew 25:41-46

good men

They were good Christians
whose voices drifted from quaint small churches with stained-glass windows
they knew every word of every hymn
they sat attentive and faithful in the same pew every week
they prayed with fervent heart and bended knee

They were good patriots
who waved flags side by side
who sang with all their might
who fought until their clothes were battle-torn and crimson
and their loved ones wept with grief and pride

They were good fathers
who sang lullabies by firelight
who tucked their children into warm beds
who held a little girl's hand when she was sick
and whispered strength when a son was afraid

They were good sons
they were good brothers
they were good friends
they were good men
their son, their daughter, their mother, their father, their sister, their brother, their friends said

But they were Nazis, I said
for I was a Jew
and I knew the holocaust to be true
and I had the scars, the numbers to prove what I knew
for I knew them better than you

we have the key

Once upon a time
there were a few proud men
who led a very large crowd

They said they were headed to heaven
that one needed a "key" to enter
and that if we followed them
they would lend their key that we might all enter in, and feast

Many knew this was not so
many knew the young men were scammers, con-men out to steal the people's money
many knew where they were truly leading the people
and where they were really headed themselves
deep in their hearts, many knew

And thus holocausts are wrought
at the hands of the wicked
and the cowardly

And thus the children of our generation were lost
at the hands of heartless men
and silent friends

blind faith

I walked to the edge of the precipice
and looked out into the abyss
I followed them to the edge
and what now, what now?
I cannot jump
I cannot turn back

"But you must!" I cry
to my friends
my foes
the children
all the children

I walked to the edge of the abyss
and looked upon the fallen forms
of innocent, trustful ones
and I wondered how, why?
was your kingdom worth the bloodshed?
was it really worth it?

I stand at a crossroads
unable to move
unable to go back, unable to go on
unable to speak, unable to weep
unable to forget
unwilling to do what I must

But I must
I must

I must reveal the apostasy
I must show them the bloodstained cloth of those who gave their lives
for dreams
for lies
for wolves in disguise
for tear-stained pages with blood-red words

"But that is all that we have left!" the child whispered in my ear
and I looked into his face with shock and pity
at such childlike belief
in a lie
crafted by those who build their dreams
upon tear-stained children with bloody wounds

I close my eyes
I cover my head
I cry out into the empty blue skies
I know not what to say
how to tell them, how to save them
how to mend their wounds while my own bleed freely

"God is dead!" they said
"He will not see, He will not hear your cry, He will not avenge"

Lest my enemies claim the victory
lest the children die in vain
lest I perish into the abyss as merely one more slain
lest they prove You silent, absent, compassionless
lest my words, Your Words echo off a thousand empty lifeless souls like a funeral refrain
oh, would You vindicate me

"God is dead!" they said
they did not see, they did not hear, they did not expect Him

deliverance

Once upon a time
there was a young man
in pursuit of happiness

Don't be mistaken
he was not a bad man
he was actually considered by many to be a very good man
he followed the laws of his society
he worked hard
he preached morality and love to the lost
he cried for the broken

In time
this man
became rich
very rich, in fact
and was appointed as a ruler
over some
while he was still very, very young

This rich young ruler
though
was not happy yet

This rich young ruler
he still lacked one thing
one very important thing

And thus with bowed head
and desperate heart
he faced a dilemma
a very hard dilemma

Was it worth it to sell all he had
to purchase this treasure?

Was it worth it to exchange liberty for slavery
to own what he sought?

Was it worth it to throw his well-earned riches to the dust
for a mere promise?

He searched his soul
for the answer
and walked away sorrowful
a slave to his wealth
a pauper amidst all his liberty
forever in pursuit of happiness

He never knew
that true wealth is only gained by giving one's all
that genuine liberty is Blood-bought
that this happiness he sought can only be found by those who love
and are thus known by Love