Category: mortality

Threads

When this which is corruptible clothes itself with incorruptibility
and this which is mortal clothes itself with immortality,
then the word that is written shall come about:
            Death is swallowed up in victory.
                        Where, O death, is your victory?
                        Where, O death, is your sting?
—I Corinthians 15:54-58

I will wear out like a garment,
growing tattered, getting torn.
Though, my God, you spun and carded,
wove my threads ere I was born,
yet your work shall come unravelled,
picked apart by careless hands,
stained by everywhere I've travelled
as I seek the promised land.

Take and wash me, smudged and spotted,
in your everflowing stream.
When you draw me from the water,
then at last I will be clean.
But you will not patch these tatters
when this cloak is all worn through,
piecing fullness where I'm ragged—
You will weave my threads anew.

I am meager; I am mortal,
quickly worn out in the strife.
Clothe me then in what's immortal,
and I'll enter into life.
Death is swallowed up in vict'ry,
in the shroud of Christ the Son.
I am sewn into your myst'ry,
in the seamless life you've spun.

Weaver, Nürnberg, c. 1425 By Anonymous – Hausbuch der Mendelschen Zwölfbrüderstiftung, Band 1. Nürnberg 1426–1549. Stadtbibliothek Nürnberg, Amb. 317.2°, via http://www.nuernberger-hausbuecher.de/, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=13129819

Merciful

To the person who strikes you on one cheek,
offer the other one as well,
and from the person who takes your cloak,
do not withhold even your tunic.
Give to everyone who asks of you,
and from the one who takes what is yours do not demand it back.
Do to others as you would have them do to you….
But rather, love your enemies and do good to them,
and lend expecting nothing back;
then your reward will be great
and you will be children of the Most High,
for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.
Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
—Luke 6:27-38

As you are merciful, O God,
and drop down heaven's dew
on even my ungrateful heart,
let me show mercy, too.

All anyone can ask of me
is something you have given—
but none of it can set me free
and none of it is heaven.

For only you, Omnipotent
o'er all that's ever been,
when time has folded up my tent
can give me life again.

Then if a beggar claims my coat,
my shirt I freely give,
for we are in the selfsame boat
and only want to live.

And if I face an enemy,
his face is yours, O Lord.
As I would have him to do me,
let me do all the more.

For both of us are like to drown
in earthly storm and strife.
So let your mercy still drop down
and bring us back to life!

The Storm on the Sea of Galilee by Rembrandt, 1632 – http://www.gardnermuseum.org : Home : Info : Pic, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6812612

Simeon

Now, Master, you may let your servant go 
        in peace, according to your word,
    for my eyes have seen your salvation,
        which you prepared in the sight of all the peoples:
    a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
        and glory for your people Israel.
—Luke 2:22-32

Now, Master, let me go
according to your vow,
for I have seen the sky aglow,
the stars and planets bow.

The long-awaited light 
at last has touched my eyes.
I could not die while it was night,
who knew the sun would rise.

This dawn you have prepared
to drive away the dark;
it comes that all the world be spared,
and I have seen its spark.

So I may go in peace
where all my hope's concealed,
for sin retreats and sorrow flees,
now light has been revealed.

Though long you've lent me breath
I cannot pay the debt,
but I am not afraid of death:
This sun shall never set.

My hour at last comes due:
I go into the gloom,
but I have seen your word come true—
Its light will fill my tomb.

Presentation of Christ in the Temple, South German, likely altarpiece wing, late 15th century. (Private collection) By Anonymous – Photograph of old art work (>500 years old)., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=55999507

When Adam’s Sons Lay Drowning

After all the people had been baptized 
and Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, 
heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended upon him
in bodily form like a dove. 
And a voice came from heaven, 
“You are my beloved Son;
with you I am well pleased.”
—Luke 3:21-22

When Adam's sons lay drowning,
the rushing flood their grave,
came God's son deeper sounding
beneath the rising wave
to sink below Eve's daughters
all lost in storm and strife
and lift us from the waters,
to bring us back to life.

For we are dust and ashes
and cannot breast the tide.
So deep is his compassion
Christ jumps in at our side,
and plunging into Jordan
with nothing to repent,
accepts what lies before him
and plunges into death.

Come up, O sons of Adam,
come up out of your graves:
He reaches out his hand now
to bear you on the waves.
Come up, all you Eve's daughters;
stand with him on the foam,
for he has walked these waters
and he will bring you home.

Eastern Orthodox icon By Unknown author – http://www.svetigora.com/node/906, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3752815

I Cannot Keep Awake

“Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy 
from carousing and drunkenness 
and the anxieties of daily life, 
and that day catch you by surprise like a trap.
For that day will assault everyone
who lives on the face of the earth.
Be vigilant at all times 
and pray that you have the strength 
to escape the tribulations that are imminent 
and to stand before the Son of Man.”
—Luke 21:25-28, 34-36

My eyes will not stay open;
I cannot keep awake,
but trust what you have spoken
that swiftly comes the day

when you will come restoring,
come bringing exiles home.
I may not be here for it,
but I wait, even so.

The memories we carry,
old sorrows we still weep
like seeds the winter buried,
not dead but fast asleep,

with Jesse's stump forgotten
yet watered by the dew—
all that we lost shall blossom,
becoming something new.

The fruit we stole in Eden
and Cain's rejected sheaves,
their shoots will grow like weeds then
into your mercy's feast.

And if I cannot see it,
if I am buried deep,
yet you will come, Redeemer,
to wake me from my sleep.

Detail of Jesse from the Stained Glass window of All Saints Church, Hove, Sussex. England, Photo By Malcolmlow, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=64575403

When You Return

When you return, O God,
O brighter than our sun,
to reckon all our rights and wrong,
our done and left undone,

there at the end of time
when at your feet I stand,
oh, take the oceans of my crimes
and pour them through your hands.

The words I should not say,
the swords I should not wield,
pour in and let them drain away
through mercy's wounds unhealed.

For I am sunk in them
who cannot walk their waves.
They seep out through your innocence
'til all that's left is grace.

As deep as I have drowned,
raise me and let me stand.
The millstone ropes at last unwound,
let me rest on dry land.

And see: My sins are gone
and you alone remain.
Now fill me with the light of dawn
and make me new again!

Gospel Book, Second Coming of Christ, Walters Manuscript W.540, fol. 14v. This manuscript was executed in 1475 by a scribe identified as Aristakes, for a priest named Hakob. It contains a series of 16 images on the life of Christ preceding the text of the gospels, as well as the traditional evangelist portraits, and there are marginal illustrations throughout. The style of the miniatures, which employ brilliant colors and emphasize decorative patterns, is characteristic of manuscript production in the region around Lake Van during the 15th century. By Walters Art Museum Illuminated Manuscripts – https://www.flickr.com/photos/39699193@N03/8509826031/, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=76790938

Kings of Earth

Riffing on Psalm 33:

Kings of earth call up their armies;
warriors sharpen spear and sword.
God moves earth and sea, disarming;
empires fall before the Lord.

Let the heart still hold its secrets;
let the plotting mind still plan.
God who made them holds their seasons;
they shall not extend their span.

Human strength avails us nothing:
Chariots sink into the sea;
weapons crumble, scarred and rusted;
all our tow'rs shall toppled be.

What will last? The stars o'erreaching.
What goes on? The ocean waves.
What stands firm? The earth beneath us,
while our mortal dust decays.

Even these shall cease their turning,
falling into entropy,
yet shall God in endless mercy
make his children still to be.

Kings and princes plot their vengeance
sinking in oblivion.
Still in God our hope is endless:
Mercy flows forever on.

Discarded and Forgotten, in DüsseldorfBy marsupium photography – https://www.flickr.com/photos/hagdorned/9291943561/, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=57468833