Served Two Ways

I can see righteousness…

in those who claim to do no wrong…

who hold the commandments

for all to see.

Who work without ceasing to have them posted

on walls

in courts

on public ground.

Who stand beside the written word of God

And silence the voices

Of women…of those perceived as created unequal…

Who silence the voices of the very ones who listen to the Word

but choose to bow to the Author, not the reader.

 

And I see righteousness…

    In those who stand beside:

the one about to die for crimes…

the couple whose love is shunned…

the homeless one whose whole buggy-bound world

    cannot be found in this world at all…

the one who is dying while holding the hand of her

    crying, angry child…

their husband of sixty-five years

    and steal a kiss in public…

no one in particular, but who stand:

    in love, joy, peace, patience,
kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness

    and self-control.

 

I see righteousness served two ways:

    From the hubris that is potently human;

    And from the very Spirit of Jesus

        that lives within.

 

 

For more please see Romans 6:8-11

 

 

The eyes of all

The sun stretches over the mountains
ready to offer this day a heartfelt hug.

Songs bounce on the wind from bird to bird to bird
to land in the ear of the Holy One.
Buds peak out of branches,
blushing against their grayish limbs.

Flowers – still waiting for showers of wind and rain

to baptize their petals – shout “Alleluia” nonetheless.

 

It’s the season of Lent – the world around me rejoices.

 

It’s the season of Lent – I shall join their chorus directed by God.

 

 

Based on Isaiah 49:8-15

© 2014, Scott Sears

Five Entrances to Healing

Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. 3 In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralysed.

Based on John 5:113, 5-16 (NRSVA)

The pool of healing

    is always before me

    and yet I sit in the portico

    waiting.

 

Perhaps I sit among my family – they love me,

    they cherish me just as I am
    yet I see their eyes darting from the pool to me, me to the pool.

 

Sometimes I rest among the portico of the very word of God.

    It brings me comfort.

    Yet, it too stirs waters

    within and without.

 

At time, I find my rest among covenant colleagues.

    I pray for them…they pray for me.

    We challenge and hold accountable.

    But would we carry each other to the healing water –

        stumbling, bumbling, tripping all the way?

        I like to think so…I like knowing it is so.

 

Other times I find myself resting in the

    busyness of The Work

    to which I am called.

    I visit…I pray…I produce…I fail to do something.

    And quietly (or not so quietly, actually) I bitch at myself

        for not doing more.

    I guess it’s easy in this crowded portico

        to direct those complaints at others I love.

 

And yet, there is one final entrance

    one portico to the pool of healing.

It must be the one where I find myself

    lounging in the shad the most…

    the one where I am alone…

    the one where I’ve grown comfortable…

    the one where I don’t have to change

        ’cause nothing else ever changes.

    The one where I hesitate the most – just like you.

 

Still. Still! Jesus comes and says,

    “Do you…Do you want to be well?”

 

The pool of healing

    is always before me

    and yet I sit in the portico

    waiting.

 

© 2014, Scott Sears

Stitches

Occasionally,
there are things that cut so deep
my body is in need of the healing power of stitches.

A knife slips while slicing onions,
and my watery eyes do not take note
of the quick movement
towards the taut, stretched skin of my finger.

[Shouted…] “Crap!”

Off to the healers for stiches.

Occasionally, words cut…
cut through the roughness and toughness
of my calloused exterior.
They find their way – these cutting, ripping words –
to a place deep inside
slipping inside my psyche
twisting in the depths of my soul.
A tongue slips during a time of greeting
to lodge an “observation”
about sloppiness and lack of attention
to detail.

That tongue slices through
my taunt, stretched smile
and lays bare the nerves that lie deep within.

Blood collects on my own bitten tongue

[Unspoken…] “Crap!”]

Off to the healers…for stitches.

“Thank you for offering kind words to my friend…”
“Thank you for checking on us and caring for us…”
“Thank you for sharing your story…”
“It’s nice to know we have a pastor who truly is human…”
“I love you, Daddy.”

 

©2014, Scott Sears

Inspired by www.pray-as-you-go.org and John 5:1-3, 5-16 (NRSVA)