doubt – Kate Bluett

I have heard the earth is burning;
I can hear the tocsin ring,
but the planet still is turning—
I will see what morning brings.
For the hearth still needs its tending;
mouths are crying to be fed.
Yes, I know the world is ending,
so I stand here baking bread.

I have heard the fear that whispers,
heard the whispers turn to shouts.
I have offered no resistance
to the wisdom of my doubts.
But some other voice is calling
in the watches of the night,
saying, “Yes, the Temple's falling:
Will you offer me your mite?”

Should I so, O Christ my savior?
What I have is not enough,
but the little I can make here,
I will give the world in love.
For like Martha in her kitchen
and like Mary at your feet,
though my quiet work is hidden,
it is needed: Come and eat.

God put Abraham to the test.
He called to him, “Abraham!”
“Here I am,” he replied.
Then God said: “Take your son Isaac, your only one, whom you love,
and go to the land of Moriah.
There you shall offer him up as a burnt offering
on a height that I will point out to you.”
Early the next morning Abraham saddled his donkey,
took with him his son Isaac, and two of his servants as well,
and with the wood that he had cut for the burnt offering,
set out for the place of which God had told him.
Genesis 22:1b-19

“And will you take the righteous with the wicked?”
You had the courage, then, to question God.
Before you see the ram caught in the thicket,
you climb the mountain and you break your heart.

You lay your only son upon the altar
without a word of protest for his sake,
prepare yourself your very soul to offer,
and in your hand the sharpened knife you take.

Where is the courage that could fight for Sodom?
Where is the strength that dared a Pharaoh's wrath,
the tears that fell for Hagar and your lost son?
How has the hope within you turned to ash?

Is it the test itself that makes you falter,
to hear God ask you for the death of love?
Or do you lay your faith upon the altar,
let heaven witness as you call its bluff?

Does even God look down this day in horror
to see the rotten harvest of despair,
and does he give you back again your courage
to wrestle with him in the depths of prayer?

Then pray for me, O Abraham, in my doubt,
when I must bear the fire and the knife,
that I may cling, through all the waves I ride out,
to love as surely as I cling to life.

עקדת יצחק (1947) מאת משה קסטל. צבע על זכוכית, 46×45 ס”מ. מוזיאון קסטל. By Moshe Castel – Taken by Talmor Yair – שיחה), CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17939939

Tag: doubt

Baking Bread

Abraham