Centurion – Kate Bluett

I am nothing made for greatness; I will never be the first, yet I cannot help but crave it with a deep and piercing thirst. Do you want this? Can you save it? Or is such a hunger cursed? When you came to turn the tables, when you upset all our scales with your kingdom built of stables and your throne of wood and nails, did you come for the unable? Did you save the heart that fails? Show me, Lord, your turning over where you treasure all that's least; how you draw our dying closer, bringing us to heaven's feast; how you come to save the lowest with a love that will not cease. Teach me, then, to love my weakness if it brings you to my side; even so to love my seeking, love the failures of my pride if they draw me to your keeping, loved as your unruly child.

Although it may not seem like it, this was actually inspired by this Sunday’s Gospel reading about Jesus walking along the shore, calling his disciples. Doubting Thomas and the centurion with sick servant also make appearances.

In deepest night that waits for day,
when we have lost our pride,
when hope and faith have lost their way,
left us without a guide,
when we have broken and betrayed
and run away to hide,
the Lamb appears to us to say,
"Come, touch my hands and side."

This world where sorrow keeps its sway
grinds us beneath its heel.
While pain and loss rule all the day,
we suffer their ordeal.
"Come to us, Lord!" we dare not say,
who so unworthy feel,
but Jesus meets us on the way
to speak the words that heal.

Amid the business of the day
and battles of the night,
we hear the Lamb who calls us say,
"Come, follow now my light."
When we are tangled in the fray
and weary from the fight,
the Lord comes to us anyway
to set the world aright.

Tag: Centurion

Turning Over

Anyway