Friday, April 3, 2015

#12: The True King



The indignity thrust upon Jesus was no surprise to Him, and that is what fascinates me the most about Jesus. At any moment, Jesus could have decided not to go through with being crucified. It was not a deserved punishment. There was no justice in this action. But what we often forget, is how much power Jesus wields. Especially in this moment of pain and suffering. Jesus appears helpless on the cross. But he wasn't. It wasn't the nails that held Him to the cross, it wasn't the Romans who put them there of their own accord. Jesus allowed it. 

Jesus could have called forth angels to whisk him away or conquer the soldiers. But that was not God's plan. That was not how God's true nature could be demonstrated. Jesus was in complete obedience to the task at hand. For mankind to know and love God, Jesus would have to die. The choice was wholly His, and that is why it is considered the greatest act of compassion. 

All of our pain, all of our sins, forgiven because Jesus allowed himself to be undignified. Now this is only part of the narrative, but what a magnificent moment. 


The True King

To the man who came down 
from the heavenly place
He came with power and wisdom,
 mercy and grace
With the strength of a lion 
and the tenderness of a lamb
With the divinity of God 
and humanity of man
Although He had power
 over the land and the sea
He never did once 
break a law or decree
He came with open ears 
and He heard every cry
He came with full knowledge 
of how He would die
He was spit on by His people, 
betrayed by His friends
Yet He went through the deed 
all the way to the end
For He knew our separation 
was infinitely large
And our sin had defeated us,
 death was our charge
So He came to earth knowing
 our penalty was death
And He paid our penalty 
with his dying breath




Sunday, March 29, 2015

#11: Two-part Trilogy


Some poems are simple, and have no deep meaning to it. Good for a laugh though. I thought of this poem while driving and then tried to remember it when I got to my destination and wrote it down. I only could remember two thirds of it though. Oh well. 





Two Part Trilogy
Here is my two part trilogy
A clean complete soliloquy
So ready to be so full and free

One is done and two is through
But three, oh three, it can never be
Not in this two part trilogy

The End

Sunday, March 22, 2015

#10: Wretched Sin / Sanctification

Wretched Sin                                     Sanctification
Of the many things on earth                           He is constantly with me
   Of which my life is comprised                      This God that I have denied
        It is the sin within my soul                         He has not left me for a moment
 That I most despise                                         He remains at my side
                         It has shaken the foundations,                     For He cannot be shaken
      The essence of my being                                because He is Creator and King
     And twisted my heart                                     He is restoring things to order
                        Into an unrecognizable thing                             He still sees me as me
          It pinned me to the ground                             He is rescuing me from my folly
                       And shoved my face in the dirt                           and dusting off the dirt
            It has stolen from me blessings                      He remains faithful to his promise
      And has magnified my hurt                        His forgiveness He continues to assert
              The thoughts that were once captivated                He addresses my entirety
          By God’s glorious name               and understands the fullness of my pain
Has given in to the lesser,                               He remains ever-present
 Its given in to my shame                                as He conquers my shame


Gauguin 'Self Potrait'


These two poems are meant to be read at the same time. Each line from Wretched Sin coincides directly to the corresponding line in Sanctification, both poems having an ABCB rhyme scheme. If you have two eyes, have your left eye read Wretched Sin while your right eye reads Sanctification. If you can successfully do that, you have the gift of cross-eyedness (more of a handicap if anything, except when reading these two poems). 

What I like about these two poems, is that they both represent what is true of me. On one hand, I am a sinner, but on the other hand I am sanctified by God's grace because of Christ's death on the cross. My sin is no longer the defining characteristic of my person-hood. My debt is paid and my shame is gone. My confidence can now be found no longer by what is within me, but by what has been given to me.




Sunday, March 15, 2015

#9: Rose in the Rubble

Not to be confused with Tupac Shakur''s, "The Rose That Grew From Concrete" which I encourage everyone to read, this poem below uses the same subject matter (a rose growing in an unlikely place) to teach a different lesson. The lesson that mankind's work, in the end, is finite and leads to ruin, but God's work is infinite and leads to life, even in the most unlikely of places. 

Fun fact about this poem - I wrote it on Pi Day, 3/14 and it only took three minutes to write. Possibly in 3.14 minutes but I wasn't timing myself. 





Everything we've built,
all that we've been doing,
it turned in to rubble,
it turned in to ruin.

Out of our own effort,
none of it could last,
all of our great works,
are relics of the past.

But look a little closer,
you'll see something surprising,
the future is approaching,
a stem begins arising.

Amidst the scorching sun,
amidst the pouring rain,
in spite of what we've done
there will be life again.


Lastly, Happy Birthday to my 2 year old niece Katie. You are so cute and sweet. I love you very much. See you soon.


Monday, March 9, 2015

#8 Tapestry


Tapestry

Tree
Nothing out there could make me more content
Then my sugar berry tree’s sweet summer scent
In the season its leaves, so lush and green
Butterflies flutter as hummingbirds sing
With shade from the leaves and branches to climb
These days off school are a glorious time
That front yard of my childhood, a kind memory
Made even sweeter by that sugar berry tree

Swing
I would play in that tree for days on end
So many games to play, worlds to pretend
I was king of the jungle, lord of the land
All of nature’s beasts obeyed my command
To add to such a marvelous thing
My papa attached to it a spectacular swing
Back and forth, to and fro
Flying around with nowhere to go

Love
First loves often become memories of the past
But my first love was also my last
A beautiful gorgeous blue eyed girl
Her presence made my insides swirl
I invited her to my yard to play
We sat in that swing, what a glorious day
I held her close all through the night
Love blossoming between black and white

Stares
Sitting on the swing, I stared deep in to her eyes
Pondering how such feelings could arise
It couldn't get better, just us on that swing
On top of the world, I felt like a king
As time moved on, passerby’s would stare
they’d mutter they’re judgments while casting a glare
Apparently they didn't like what they saw
I was a young black man, but I broke no law
  
Night
They burst through the door just past midnight
I was asleep in my bed, unaware of my plight
My love in tears she pointed and accused
I stared in disbelief, completely confused
A man with a gun yelled, “Is this him right here?”
He grabbed for my arm, I was frozen in fear
“Your filthy hands touched my daughter!”
He led me outside like a lamb to the slaughter

Yard
My front yard was now the place of my trial
Guilty the verdict by the rank and file
I guess I committed an unspeakable crime
But for my sentence, I would not do time
I looked at my love, but she wouldn't look back
I could not understand what brought this attack
I looked at my tree, for some sort of hope
But all I could see was my tree swings rope

Rope
Oh sweet sugar berry tree
All of their eyes stared murderously
I still don’t understand what I did wrong
Why society deemed that I can’t belong
They strung me up with the rope from my swing
And turned me in to a ghostly being
Who knew that love could bring such spite?
This is no place for black and white






This poem is inspired by (but not based on) the story of Lennon Lacy, a 17 year old who was found hanging from a swing in North Carolina. The police concluded it was suicide, however, further evidence is pointing to this being a lynching. In 2014. A lynching. In the United States. Terrible.









Sunday, March 1, 2015

#7: Adoration to the Lamb



My absolute favorite piece of art is the Ghent Altarpiece by Hubert and Jan van Eyck. Created during the Northern Renaissance and being the defining piece of "new realism," it is an epic depiction of God's plan according to the Bible. It is considered a treasure of the world and is also famous for the many times it has been stolen (Napoleon, Nazis, Calvinists, Iconoclasts and more) and then returned.

It is stunning in terms of how much detail was taken to craft this masterpiece. The vast cast of Biblical characters depicted is amazing. You could spend months studying the different characters and details and still not fully grasp the majesty of this piece.

The use of light and shadows, the diverse cityscapes and land formations in the background, and even the specific people are meticulously crafted. Take for example Saint Stephen (the first martyr, stoned in Acts 7:57-60) approaching the altar with the very stones that were used to kill him. When I first learned of Stephens depiction in this painting, I was blown away. And Saint Stephen is in no way a focal point of this piece.



A few years ago, I was preaching to a group of graduating seniors at Davis and used this painting as the focal point of my message. The painting helped to provide the students perspective as they finished their time in college and transitioned to their next phase of life. As the painting continued to resonate with me, I then wrote the below poem.

At the very bottom of this post is a link to a website that contains the Ghent Altarpiece in 100 billion pixels. Check it out




In adoration to the Lamb
Where sin hath lost and grace began
There is no other who is victorious
There is no image that can be more glorious
The goldsmith, blacksmith, politician, and queen
All kneel to the lamb, the lamb that redeems
He doesn't lie on the altar, although he was once dead
He doesn't lie on the altar though his sinless blood was shed
No, the Lamb stands on the altar, alive and well
He stands there majestically, for He has defeated hell
Come to the altar and adore the true king
Come to the altar for He is beckoning




http://closertovaneyck.kikirpa.be

Sunday, February 22, 2015

#6: What the Fish Don't Know

Fishing from the fish's point of view is much different then the human's. Could you imagine biting in to a juicy hamburger and then getting your mouth caught on a barbed hook? The hook then pulls you up in to the air where a mysterious animal proceeds to cook you and eat you? I have; its in the poem below.



Hunger, hunger, I need to be fed
I eat and I eat, or else I’ll be dead
Where is my next meal, where is my next fly
I better find my next meal, or else I might die
I swim in the calm, I swim in the storm
I swim to find sustenance, I swim for the worm
Hunger, hunger, my belly, it aches,
I’m hungry, I’m hungry, survival at stake
My eye spots a sparkle, on this calm winters day
It’s the flutter of wings, on the surface of the lake
I swim to the spot, so I can have my lunch
But this fly looks sorta funny, its wings in a bunch
I take a big bite but made a mistake
This was not a fly, but merely bait
I was caught by my mouth on a shiny little string
It was quite uncomfortable, quite a painful thing
The string pulled me up as I struggled and gasped
I guess this is it, this meals my last
At the end of the string was a surly old man
He held the shiny string tight in his hand
He set me down on the ground of his boat
Then he hit me with a hammer, across my throat
Hungry, he’s hungry, he needs to be fed
He eats, he eats, or else he’ll be dead
He looks at his pan, quite a sizzling dish
Magnificent dinner, magnificent fish.