Let Me Know Nothing

When I came to you, brothers, proclaiming the mystery of God, I did not come with sublimity of words or of wisdom. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear and much trembling, and my message and my proclamation were not with persuasive (words of) wisdom, but with a demonstration of spirit and power, so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.
—1 Corinthians 2:1-5

Let me know nothing, Lord, but you,
and let me know you crucified,
to look on all things through your wounds
and see the world then by your light.

So shine on all the feeble, weak,
that weakness is made glorious,
as if a crown for heaven's king
were burning here in mortal dust.

And show me folly through your lens—
refocus my own world-wise eyes
to see the wisdom that upends
and lifts the trampled to the skies;

to see their outstretched, empty hands
as treasures more than what they hold—
as earthen vessels ready stand
to catch where mercy's overflowed;

to know the one who stumbles now
is sharing in your burden, Lord,
for we all falter, falling down
beneath the very weight you bore.

My savior, show me what is true,
that you will raise the felled and marred.
Let me know always, only you,
and know you everywhere you are.

Amphorae stacking: reconstruction of how amphorae might have been stacked on a galley. (Now in Bodrum Castle, Turkey). A galley (from Greek γαλέα galea) is an ancient ship which is entirely propelled by human oarsmen. By Ad Meskens – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5661567

Bright

We live our lives in darkness
and fumble for the truth;
this dim and shadowed starshine
is bright as day to you.
And what to us is hidden
lies open to your sight,
for bidden or unbidden,
your presence fills our night.

We cannot bear the sunlight—
our vision is not strong—
so as a lantern's wan light 
you hid your burning dawn.
But even that is blinding
when all we've known is dark,
and, oh, what is this lightning
awakend in our hearts?

We walk the shade as pilgrims
who barely know our names,
and only learn we're tinder
when we have met your flame.
And then, O living glory,
you blossom in our night,
and make of us your morning,
and all the world is bright!

The Aygerlich lake By MEDIACRAT, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11600807

Damascus

I'm not going to Damascus;
I won't see a blinding light,
but you'll knock me on my ass yet
for the scales upon my eyes.

I'll be sitting by the roadside
like a beggar, blind and deaf,
when you've turned my day to soul's night,
shown me I have nothing left.

Though I set your praise resounding,
still I haven't got my sight.
O my shepherd, you have found me,
but you cannot leave me blind.

When you take what I hold sacred,
you will tear it all apart.
Write a truer word to save me
on the tablet of my heart.

As my blood runs through the letters
it will fill my ears and eyes.
I will see the whole world better
when you've given me my sight.

Though I'm lost and I have fallen,
though I cannot find my way,
let the light come when you call it.
Let me see your dawning day.

Conversion on the Way to Damascus, Caravaggio (c.1600-1) – Self-scanned, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15219516

Transfigured

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John,
and led them up a high mountain by themselves.
And he was transfigured before them;
his face shone like the sun
and his clothes became white as light.
Matthew 17:1-9

Today and yesterday the same,
forever always Christ,
yet here you burn with such a flame
I hardly recognize.

You are the way that led me here
to Tabor's mountain height;
you are the truth, how deep I fear;
you are this burning life.

Show me the light I'd never seen
that rises in your eyes;
show me where you have always been,
divinity disguised.

And as I watch my passing days,
my ordinary nights,
teach me to see where you still blaze
and make these moments bright.

Show me your ever-glowing spark,
and let it be a light
within the shadows of my heart
until your day dawns bright.

Now as I follow in your way,
new Tabors I will find:
You show your glory day by day,
and in my eyes it shines.

12th-century icon of the Transfiguration By Unknown author – Saint Catherine’s Monastery, Sinai (Egypt) / K. Weitzmann: “Die Ikone”, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3859855

Seeing

Jesus told his disciples a parable,
“Can a blind person guide a blind person?
Will not both fall into a pit?
No disciple is superior to the teacher;
but when fully trained,
every disciple will be like his teacher.
Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye,
but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?
How can you say to your brother,
‘Brother, let me remove that splinter in your eye,’
when you do not even notice the wooden beam in your own eye?
You hypocrite! Remove the wooden beam from your eye first;
then you will see clearly
to remove the splinter in your brother’s eye.”
Luke 6:39-45

O God, who from high heaven gazes down,
all things to your observant gaze are shown:
The mountain peaks, the trenches most profound,
and all of humankind by you are known.

I cannot see myself, perceiving Lord;
I cannot see the beam that fills my eye,
but you who healed the blind with but a word,
you see, and you alone can give me sight.

Let me not reach to guide another's way—
no, take my hand and lead me in your own.
The shadows I have seen lead me astray:
Send out your light and show me where to go.

Then when my eyes are healed, my vision clear,
oh, then shall I see others as you see
and with your light reach out to draw them near,
as you in endless mercy have drawn me.

By mogelijk B. Picart, Jan Luyken of G. Hoet – Nederlands Bijbel Genootschap, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8368894

Touch My Eyes

This Sunday is the Lent readings about sight:

Lord, I am longing, lost in night,
for any sign of day,
but walking still, past hope or sight:
Good Jesus, light my way!
My path was clear, my hope was bright,
but I have gone astray.
Oh, come amid my pain and fright:
Good Jesus, light my way!

Look down, and through my shade and gloom
cast your bright eyes on me,
a sun to make my sad heart bloom.
Good Jesus, let me see!
If this road leads to death and doom
by your will, let it be.
Your face beside me in the tomb,
Good Jesus, let me see.

By your own light you saw me, Lord,
and yet did not despise
but still more light on me you poured.
Good, Jesus, touch my eyes!
Let me see others, most adored,
as you yourself would prize
and see the light we journey toward.
Good Jesus, touch my eyes!