Burning Yet

Jesus took Peter, John, and James
and went up the mountain to pray.
While he was praying his face changed in appearance
and his clothing became dazzling white.
And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah,
who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus
that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.
Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep,
but becoming fully awake,
they saw his glory and the two men standing with him.
—Luke 9:28b-36

I've walked the valley, and I've climbed the mountain
to chase the hints and glimpses of your face,
and still do I believe I'll see your bounty
here in this place.

But it's a hard road, this land of the living,
and I a stone that rolls along its tracks—
compassionate as stone and as forgiving
until it cracks.

I break and seek you still through all my days here—
how rarely is my way lit by a spark!
Where is the light that guides me toward salvation
through all the dark?

But darkness is not dark to you—I glimpse it
in moments when I cannot trust my sense,
that as I wait for night to be transfigured
it's burning yet;

that every inch of road runs over Tabor;
that every step I take is in the light
that you have hidden in a human savior,
the heart of Christ.

And my own heart, world-weary and unfeeling,
will melt into your glory when it's shown.
The light is always here: Though I can't see it,
it brings me home.

ALG169046 The Transfiguration, 1594-95 (oil on canvas) by Carracci, Lodovico (1555-1619) oil on canvas 438×268 Pinacoteca Nazionale, Bologna, Italy Alinari Italian, out of copyright

Lodovico Carracci, 1594- http://www.valtorta.org/the_transfiguration_defaultpage.asp, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8768456

And Did You Not Look Back?

And to another he said, “Follow me.”
But he replied, “Lord, let me go first and bury my father.”
But he answered him, “Let the dead bury their dead.
But you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”
And another said, “I will follow you, Lord,
but first let me say farewell to my family at home.”
To him Jesus said, “No one who sets a hand to the plow
and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God.”
Luke 9: 51-62

You set your hand upon the plow
and walked the furrowed track;
from heav'n to hell the road ran down,
and did you not look back?

From highest throne you sank to this:
no place to lay your head.
You left behind the Father's bliss,
as dead t'embrace the dead.

And did you never know regret
or wish the days rewound
to timelessness you'd not yet left
to till the barren ground?

For I could follow you in that,
in looking far behind.
On this relentless forward path,
what mercy can I find?

And mercy is my only hope,
unready as I am
to travel with you on the road
to face Jerusalem.

Forgive my lagging steps, my God,
and give me greater strength
to lift my eyes and look ahead
and love the journey's length.

Give me the courage, O my Lord,
to trail you to the grave,
if not with valor, then with myrrh,
though I should come but late.

Ancient Egyptian ard, c. 1200 BC. (Burial chamber of Sennedjem) By Painter of the burial chamber of Sennedjem – The Yorck Project (2002) 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei (DVD-ROM), distributed by DIRECTMEDIA Publishing GmbH. ISBN: 3936122202., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=154346

Where Could We Ever Find Enough?

Jesus spoke to the crowds about the kingdom of God,
and he healed those who needed to be cured.
As the day was drawing to a close,
the Twelve approached him and said,
“Dismiss the crowd
so that they can go to the surrounding villages and farms
and find lodging and provisions;
for we are in a deserted place here.”
He said to them, “Give them some food yourselves.”
They replied, “Five loaves and two fish are all we have,
unless we ourselves go and buy food for all these people.”
Now the men there numbered about five thousand.
Then he said to his disciples,
“Have them sit down in groups of about fifty.”
They did so and made them all sit down.
Then taking the five loaves and the two fish,
and looking up to heaven,
he said the blessing over them, broke them,
and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd.
They all ate and were satisfied.
And when the leftover fragments were picked up,
they filled twelve wicker baskets.
Luke 9:11b-17

Where could we ever find enough
to feed the hungers here?
No food could satisfy but love
unfading through the years.

But oh, our hearts are far too small
and fickle as the tide.
How could so little feed us all?
What feast could we supply?

What meagreness we have, you take
to bless beyond our ken,
and though it hurts, this bread you break:
You feed the thousands then.

Our hearts and hands, our bread and wine
all scattered far as crumbs:
Though these, you share your life divine.
Like this, your kingdom comes.

And though we fear to starve on crusts,
we feast beyond our hopes.
Your gift is more than all our trust;
your goodness overflows.

Then, Christ, the giver of the bread,
take all that you have made
and give us 'til the world is fed
on what you bless and break.

А. Иванов. Умножение хлебов By Alexander Ivanov – http://religionart.narod.ru/gal9/photo45.htm, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9087582

On Tabor’s Height

Jesus took Peter, John, and James
and went up the mountain to pray.
While he was praying his face changed in appearance
and his clothing became dazzling white.
And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah,
who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus
that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.
Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep,
but becoming fully awake,
they saw his glory and the two men standing with him.
As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus,
“Master, it is good that we are here;
let us make three tents,
one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
But he did not know what he was saying.
While he was still speaking,
a cloud came and cast a shadow over them,
and they became frightened when they entered the cloud.
Then from the cloud came a voice that said,
“This is my chosen Son; listen to him.”
After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone.
They fell silent and did not at that time
tell anyone what they had seen.
Luke 9:28b-36

This is the light from Bethlehem,
the cloud of Exodus,
the still, small voice behind the wind
revealing Christ to us.

The days all meet on Tabor's height:
The culminating years
here coalesce in dawning light,
and we fall down in fear.

The law and prophecy collide
as light and shade are one
and heaven fills the mountainside:
“This is my chosen Son!”

O Christ transfigured, friend transformed,
what wonders have we seen?
That something greater, something more,
that you have always been.

And yet you linger with us here:
Your work is not yet done.
What we have seen is not yet clear:
The glory of the Son.

Then teach us still as we descend
from Tabor to the grave:
Your road does not at Calv'ry end;
your light will never fade.

*Nativity*, above, and *Transfiguration* below, 1025–1050, Cologne By Kölner Meister eines Evangelienbuches – The Yorck Project (2002) 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei (DVD-ROM), distributed by DIRECTMEDIA Publishing GmbH. ISBN: 3936122202., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=153557

Journey

Jesus summoned the Twelve and gave them power and authority
over all demons and to cure diseases,
and he sent them to proclaim the Kingdom of God
and to heal the sick.
He said to them, “Take nothing for the journey,
neither walking stick, nor sack, nor food, nor money,
and let no one take a second tunic.
Luke 9:1-6

You set me on a journey,
but take all I'd prepared
and send me out with nothing
to go I-know-not-where.
Without my sure provisions
and all my careful plans,
I go about my mission
with only empty hands.

I meant to scale the mountains
but had no rod or staff,
to sail the ocean's fountains,
but had no mast or raft,
so when I fell, I shattered,
and when I sank, I drowned,
and all my dreams were scattered
as ashes on the ground.

What is it, then, you've asked me?
(No money in my sack.)
With what, then, have you tasked me?
(No tunic for my back.)
There's nothing I can give you,
no glories for your name.
I am not worthy of you:
This is my constant shame.

But still your journey beckons,
and, sandal-less, I go
with nothing I had reckoned,
by roads I do not know.
You do not ask for wonders,
but only that I walk.
Then barefoot, let me blunder
along the road you've marked.